Ancient Fueds and New Ties
by MandalorianHybrid
Summary: Eric has accepted a lot of things from others to settle their debts: money, favors... people. After accepting a young woman as payment, Eric learns quickly that pride, no fear, and unrivaled rage hide much more interesting depths. But he soon finds he isn't the only one she's tied to in one way or another and that he's not the only one that lays claim. (Themes similar to the show)
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note at the bottom for some explanation. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!**_

**Chapter 1**

_(Somewhere in Season One)_

Eric sat on his throne, staring absentmindedly at the lingering patrons –a few humans with even fewer vampires. The dancers shook their bodies on the poles, half naked if not completely. Human men swooned over beautiful vampire women, and human women did the same for unnaturally attractive vampire males. It made him sick in many regards, but this was simply the way things were. He had to admit though, with the passing of the Great Revelation, it did make some things more fun. He liked hearing women's hearts beat erratically within their chests even though their bodies, in truth, were unable to facilitate him completely in all his glory. Even if he didn't actually sleep with some of them, so many swooned and crooned over being so close to the vampire Viking that it tainted their blood with delicious desire.

A wicked smile curled his pale, dead lips at the thought. He knew he'd have to find one for the night, someone with whom he could pass the time.

The slight pleasure the thought brought to him was broken, however, when there was commotion coming through his front door.

His keen eyes shifted, ignoring the words from the patrons and their shock at what was happening. Five large men, vampires, came storming through _Fangtasia's_ front door. Eric scowled at the arrogance of it, but couldn't hide his curiosity at what they were hauling in with them. His finger lightly traced his lips as they walked forward, four of them carrying some kind of metal crate, close to a coffin in appearance with three tiny holes drilled in the top. Surely they weren't big enough for breathing holes.

The man in the lead was Anthony, someone who was indebted to Eric at the moment, and owed him quite a bit in the ways of either money or favors. Eric hadn't decided which yet and preferred to keep his options open.

"And the meaning of this rather _rude_ intrusion is, Anthony?" He asked in an even, eerie voice. He was seriously considering making an example of the vampire who dared to interrupt the festivities in front of paying customers.

Anthony shifted uncomfortably for a moment, ringing his cold hands before speaking.

"I've found something that will settle my account, or at least part of it, Sheriff."

"I will decide what will or will not settle any part of the debt you owe me." he corrected. Anthony shrank away at the stern tone before nodding subserviently. "Still," Eric sighed, his eyes falling back on the metal coffin. "I would like to see what you would think worthy."

"Of course, Sheriff." He turned and motioned to his men to set the object down.

"Not here, you idiot." Eric sighed. He stood and motioned for Anthony and Pam to follow him.

The group of vampires did as told, carrying the impressive and curious case behind them. Eric walked leisurely through the back halls of his bar and to the familiar steel door that led to the dank basement below. Unlocking it quickly, he flipped a switch and descended the stairs. Pam's heels clicked behind them as she followed, annoyed at the newcomers, but doing her Maker's bidding regardless. She was always annoyed when people came to call with business because it rarely ended favorably for them. It was generally just a headache. Eric had to agree.

When they reached the bottom of the concrete stairs, Anthony motioned for his men to set the coffin down on the damp floor, and they obliged.

Pam joined Eric's side, each sharing a bored expression before Anthony went about flipping the rather impressive hooks and locks that kept the steel box closed. His men stood guard behind him, seemingly ready for whatever might pop out.

"There a reason the coffin's locked up so tight?" Pam asked with a mild sneer. "Who are you trying to keep out of that thing?"

"With all due respect," Anthony replied, obviously annoyed by her tone as he knelt down beside the prison. "It's not to keep anyone out. It's to keep her in."

She perked. "Her?"

Anthony said nothing more as he flipped the lid over effortlessly. The thick steel hit the ground with a tremendous 'clack' before settling. Eric felt his brow arch at what lay within.

It was indeed a _her_, a young woman no more than twenty years old by the looks of it. She was bound tightly in place by thick steel chains wrapped securely around her body. Her arms were crossed over her chest, held in place while her hands were wrapped in what appeared to be, and smelled like, old leather mitts.

Another long, thick braid of iron curled around her legs from waist to ankles and back again. She looked as though her petite frame would have been crushed underneath the weight of the massive chunks of metal alone. And as though that weren't enough, two chains crisscrossed over her body, attached to the corners of the coffin to keep her from sitting up, another across her midsection from left to right.

Eric marveled at the way she was being held, hearing a distinct heartbeat within her chest and knowing immediately she was human. A smile touched his lips as he surveyed her body. Tattered clothing, dirty and beaten, was all she had to wear. Her jeans were covered in tears, dirt, and blood stains and her long-sleeved black shirt fared no better. Everything was shapeless and old. Eric doubted Anthony rarely, if ever, removed her from the box to be cleaned.

His gaze traveled languidly over what was meant to be his new meal before finally meeting her face. Fluorescent green orbs, unnaturally bright in appearance, glared an animalistic hatred out at all that stood in the room. They were an odd color, and one that drew him in as much as the rage within. He had trouble deciding what to call the shade of green, trapped somewhere between emerald and the neon color used for bio-hazard signs. Whatever it was, it made them almost glow.

Her delicate brow was knit in anger while everything from her nose to her chin was covered with a thick leather strap. Before he could stop himself he laughed, much to the shock of all around, including his progeny.

"I must say," he smiled. "It doesn't appear as though you have spared any expense. Why is she bound like that? Are you scared she might hurt you?" he mocked.

Anthony bristled. "It became necessary over time." He answered in as strong a voice as he could, though the shame was still there. "I wanted to ensure she couldn't move."

"Clearly." he smiled as he advanced on the young woman.

Eric knelt down beside her near her shoulders and stared at the young woman that seemed to vibrate with anger. His hand came out and lightly touched her forehead, the only real flesh that wasn't covered with either metal, leather or clothing, and felt her smolder beneath his hand. He marveled at it and that she didn't even shy away. There was no fear in her, only rage.

"Is this meant to satisfy our debt?" he asked as he stood.

"Her blood is unlike anything I have ever tasted before." Anthony said, almost gushing about the concept. "I want to give her to you, as a partial payment."

Eric cocked his brow to the vampire before hearing something that sounded like a hiss coming from the woman in the casket. He turned with surprise on his face and, still smiling at the circumstances he found himself in, tilted his head to the side. Eric inhaled her scent deeply. Through the dinge and damp of the basement, and through the dust, dried blood, and the smell of others on her body, he smelled her. She smelled fresh, like the open air of some beautiful world, something lacking in any place he had been to in the past few hundred years. He had to admit, it tugged at him, gripped something in his chest, his stomach, and his groin. He wanted it, but wasn't foolish enough to show the fact.

"Show me." he finally said.

Anthony nodded obediently. He stepped to the prisoner's side and reached for a knife in his pocket. Before he cut her, he snapped his fingers at one of his men who instantly produced a small shot glass from his pocket. Apparently, Anthony anticipated the demonstration.

Anthony approached her carefully while Eric and Pam mused over how delicately he touched her, rolling back her long sleeve as though she would burst free and kill him. When the fabric was far enough back he jabbed her forearm, twisting the knife to open the wound further as he filled the glass. She moved violently, the chains clanking and shifting as she fought fruitlessly. Anthony finished filling his glass and pushed her sleeve back down before standing.

"Spirited isn't she?" Pam asked sarcastically, smiling despite herself. It really was quite funny to her.

Anthony said nothing as he handed Eric the small, clear glass of red liquid. He took it. Eric felt the fire of her blood through the thin glass, felt like he was holding a burning piece of coal in his fingertips.

_Interesting_, he thought to himself. Blood generally cooled quickly once it left the body, but not in her case.

Eric proceeded to treat the sample like a fine wine, even going so far as to lift the shot glass to his face as he swirled the thick crimson around inside. He could already smell it, but felt as though he smelled it anew when it was directly beneath his nostrils. It was a medley of scents, many of which weren't familiar to the humans he ate. He could smell hints of open air, the ocean, dirt from the cleanest land. All were things the Industrial Revolution squeezed out of existence. Humans had begun a centuries-long campaign of polluting not only the planet, but themselves. It was rare indeed to find someone beyond that to feed on, someone who didn't possess the familiar tang of the modern world.

"She is one of the most unique and purest sources I've ever tasted."

Eric cocked his brow to the vampire, annoyed he had spoken. Anthony shrank back again.

"I'll decide for myself."

Despite the words being polite, they were stern and cautionary. Satisfied that the man wouldn't speak again, Eric brought the glass to his lips and drank. The moment the blood touched his tongue, he felt heat surge through his body. Savoring the blood was no longer an option. Eric swallowed the liquid greedily and it radiated through his body. He felt it move through every vein, every muscle as though he were still alive. The surprise was written across his face as he relished in the taste. True to Anthony's words, she was unique and surprisingly pure. She tasted almost farm grown, never eating any of the processed junk in the world, like she was organic. Finally, his eyes went back to the woman in the casket.

"Astounding." he muttered. "She will suffice."

Anthony seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that caught in his throat the moment he noticed Eric approaching the prisoner. Anthony paused and waited with bated breath. At first, he assumed his Sheriff simply wanted another taste. It wasn't until Eric's long, pale fingers reached for the shackles that Anthony felt panic rise inside him.

"Sheriff!" he snapped quickly, forcing Eric to pause whether he meant to or not. He turned a dangerous eye to the vampire. "Sir, it would be best, for everyone, if you kept her shackled and chained."

"And why is that?" he growled. Eric's frustration and annoyance with Anthony grew by the second.

"She… she has a tendency to escape."

"How many times has she run off on you?" Pam asked with a beaming, sarcastic smile. She could clearly hear Anthony's disappointment and disgust with himself, and to her, it only added to her enjoyment.

Anthony glared at her before answering.

"A few."

None believed him and before they could ask him to clarify, the woman in the box did something they hadn't expected. She began to laugh. Eric turned his attention back to her as she laughed, almost hysterically, beneath her gag. The sound may have been muffled, but it was distinct and it was at Anthony's expense. The vampire Sheriff was intrigued.

"I take it, it was more than a few." he said to her.

"_Mh-hmm."_ she giggled, seemingly proud of herself at the memories.

He cocked his head and noticed the buckle on the side of her jaw. Moving with his speed, perhaps just to show her he could, he undid the gag and freed her mouth. The young woman in the box yawned, stretching her jaw and moving it from side to side before taking a deep breath and grinning. It was the first time Eric had seen her face and he wasn't disappointed.

She had deep black hair that he almost hadn't noticed, the waves resting on the bottom of the box around her head looking softer than silk. She had a delicate, almost childlike face with pronounced cheekbones, a round chin, and full pink lips that matched the hue in her cheeks. She was surprisingly beautiful.

"Oh, Anthony," she sighed in a delicate voice, possessing an accent muddled by different regions. Eric couldn't immediately identify it. "No need to lie around your…" her eyes fell to Eric as she looked him up and down with clear disgust. "_Sheriff_." The word was spoken with a level of distain that didn't escape Eric, though he didn't react as her gaze shifted once again to Anthony. "Tell him the truth."

"Perhaps it was a bit more than a few." he muttered.

"A bit." she repeated sarcastically with a defiantly happy smile.

"How many times have you escaped?" Eric asked her.

Her brilliant eyes went to him once again. "Seventy-four times."

There was obvious shock written across both Eric and Pam's faces.

"That's quite a bit." Eric replied.

"I'd say." Pam mumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest, her weight shifting to the side. Her fun with the situation was beginning to dwindle.

"Every chance I got." She said. "Is it my fault they couldn't keep me? Who am I to deny the opportunity to exploit their faults?"

"You seem proud of yourself." Eric said, ignoring the hisses and growls coming from the men behind him.

"Quite."

"And yet, they caught you each time?"

Her smile fell as she cocked a delicate brow at him.

"They kept me half-starved and drugged so I would be weak. I was never able to gather enough strength to get far enough away." she answered begrudgingly.

"And I doubt being human helped." Eric added with a smile.

"I have the feeling an infant could have escaped if it so chose."

"Bite your tongue, you blood sack." Anthony hissed.

"Eat shit, corpse." she shot back without fear.

Anthony lunged for her but Eric was older, faster, and launched him effortlessly across the room. His back hit the concrete wall hard before he fell to the ground. When he stood, Anthony charged once more, though made no attempt to go against his Sheriff again.

"I should drain you dry or let you starve, you bitch."

"Ooo, such language_."_ she hissed.

"You killed my men!"

"They deserved it!" she yelled back. "And given the chance I'll gladly rip your head from your shoulders, you useless fuck!"

"Oh, I like her." Eric laughed. "She has… spirit."

Pam laughed under her breath.

"How many of his men have you killed?" Eric asked her.

"Only a few."

Anthony spoke, "That's why she has to be tied up and drugged most of the time. She's unpredictable."

"Are you telling me you couldn't control your food?" Pam asked sarcastically. "Pathetic."

The young woman in the box rolled her eyes to the staggeringly tall vampire woman. They drifted up and down her length, something Pam noticed. Her thick lips curled into a smile as she set a hand on her hip.

"See something you like?" She teased in a sultry tone. Pam may have had no intention of touching the creature in the box, but she adored being admired.

The prisoner didn't reply. Instead, her neon eyes drifted back to Eric.

"So, are you to be my new… keeper?" she asked the Viking.

"You were sold to me, so yes. I own you now." he replied simply.

"_Do you think it best we keep her?" _Pam suddenly asked in Old Swedish. While the taunting was all well and good, and she enjoyed hearing about Anthony's faults, it was clear the woman in the box was a handful and likely not worth the effort._ "She's already admitted to escaping and killing some of Anthony's men."_

Eric's eyes still moved over the woman's face, watching her and committing her to memory. He liked her lack of fear and sharp tongue. Not many made him smile, but she did, wickedly.

"_Yes._" he told her in the same language. _"I think I will have fun breaking her."_

"_And if she escapes?"_

"_We'll kill her."_ he sighed simply, though it was obvious it wasn't his first choice. "_Besides, we can always keep her locked in the box, too."_

"_I will make you a deal."_

The new voice caused Eric and Pam's backs tense, making them stand a bit more rigid than before. The smile had faded from the Sheriff's mouth as he stared at the woman in the box.

"_I will make you a deal."_ she repeated in Swedish. And though it was the recent dialect, not a great deal had changed since Eric taught Pam, so all three understood one another with little difficulty.

"And what could you possibly have that I would want?" he asked in English.

"My blood."

Eric raised a brow to her while another smirk curled the corner of his lips.

"It's good, but not that good." he said, almost tasting the lie. He would very much like to have her as a constant, willing blood supply. And if she tasted as good as she did half-starved and dirty, he wondered how much better the blood would be if she was properly nourished.

"_If you allow me to take revenge, I promise I won't run away or attempt to escape. I will do whatever you want as long as I can kill them all."_ she almost growled. He could see the anger when she spoke and delighted in it.

"Intriguing." Eric mused. "And how long would this go on?"

She paused for a moment, seemingly measuring a decent amount of time that wouldn't tie her to the vampire for too long. If he was truly on board with her plan, it would make things exponentially easier than being locked up indefinitely.

"_A week per vampire."_ she began, keeping to the Swedish so the increasingly nervous onlookers couldn't understand their deal.

Eric couldn't keep from laughing and Pam scoffed at the insubstantial amount of time. If they permitted her to kill vampires, in his district, they would have to get more out of it than a week.

"_A decade per vampire."_ he countered.

Her eyes went wide and her mouth feel open in shock.

"_A month."_

"_A year."_

The two were almost unrelenting and she knew it wouldn't get much better. She didn't want to be tied for years, least of all to some arrogant ass like Eric Northman, but she doubted he would let it lie. She growled under her breath.

"_Three months per vampire is the best I can do. There are more than the few in this room."_

He arched a curious brow.

"How many more?"

"_Nine total."_ she sighed, seemingly disappointed in the amount of time that would come to.

Eric felt a smile touch his lips. This meant that she would obey his every whim for just over two years. The thought made him almost giddy. He loved controlling and dominating people, women just meant there was more he could get from them. He adored it more than anything, really.

But, there was an issue. There was something more pressing and he couldn't ignore it. The smile faded as the cold calculating businessman took over his features once again.

"And what's to make you keep your word?"

"If you agree and we come to an arrangement, than I give you my word I'll honor it." she told him solemnly.

He could tell she wasn't overjoyed by the thought, which added a bit of validity to her statement, but it did little sway him. Pam laughed openly.

"You can't be serious." she scoffed.

"Sir," Anthony finally spoke, his eyes still darting around the room skeptically.

Eric turned his head languidly to the vampire. From the moment his eyes fell to him, Eric could see Anthony's worry and apprehension. He looked like a frightened animal, which Eric thought amusing.

"What?" he sighed in annoyance.

"Are we free to leave now that our business has finished?"

Eric could see the hope in the vampire's eyes and it bothered him, made him queasy.

"Yes." he answered, much to the horror of the woman in the box. "But remain in the bar with your men. I'd like to discuss any further business with you."

Anthony nodded and waved to his men to follow. When they were safely up the stairs Eric knew they'd breathe a sigh of relief. Any good fighter, vampire, or astute person could tell when their lives were being threatened. Anthony did too, and that impressed Eric, though he still had little to no respect for the man.

Slowly, Eric turned his face back to the woman in the box, who seemed to be vibrating with rage once again. He cocked a brow to her curiously as her eyes began to water with angry tears.

"You can't let them leave." Her jaw quivered slightly when she spoke.

"They're in the bar upstairs." he answered in a lighthearted voice, even daring to smile. "They haven't gone anywhere."

She slammed her eyes shut and released the tears, turning her head as far to the side as she could. She didn't want to look at the man before her, and felt her stomach turn at the thought of him even being there.

"Then go." she said with an angry, disappointed tone. "Leave me in the box and go."

Eric only turned his head to the side, still eying the curious woman in the crate that seemed to seethe with ire, wanting nothing more than revenge for the way she had been treated. He felt a twinge in his gut. He knew the feeling and not being particularly fond of Anthony, he felt his mind turn.

"Have you had his blood?"

Pam and the woman in the box shot him a curious look. The prisoner's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Beg pardon?"

Eric rolled his eyes. It was an upfront question.

"Have you tasted his blood?" he asked again, knowing that he would slam the lid down on her coffin if she asked once more because he wouldn't repeat himself a third time.

"No." she answered, clearly insulted by his insinuation that she had. "I've never tasted any vampire blood."

Eric perked. "You'll drink mine."

"What?!" she and Pam asked in unison.

"If you want out," he said, snapping his fangs out. "You will."

She looked the man up and down apprehensively. Eric could practically see her worry. He could tell she knew the gravity of the situation and knew she had only one way to escape it.

"Does this mean we have a bargain?" she asked cautiously.

"It would appear we do."

He could see her sigh her relief while Pam grumbled something under her breath. After a few choice words to her Maker about the whole ordeal, she turned and made her way upstairs to the club. Smiling his pride, Eric nicked his thumb, pushing a good stream of blood free before leaning over the prisoner. He could see her try her best to move back, but there was nowhere to escape. His smile widened.

"I will be able to find you anywhere in the world now." he whispered, his steely eyes holding her brilliant green. "And there will be nowhere for you to run."

She nodded her understanding.

"Good." he cooed, almost reassuringly which even the stranger could tell was false. "And let's make it six months per vampire."

She jerked back before his thumb could touch her lips, slamming her head into the side of the steel box with a loud thud. If she hurt herself, she didn't let on. Instead, she glowered up at him with the purest fury he'd seen thus far.

"You can't change the deal."

"I can." Eric didn't bother hiding his patronizing tone. "And if you don't like the new terms, I'll just keep you locked in this coffin, day in and day out, until you die."

There. Right there, he saw it. He saw the defiance waver and almost disappear completely. In that moment, he knew that _she_ knew he held every card. Her spirit wasn't broken, but he put a sizable hole in it.

As soft as a whisper, she replied, "Fine."

He grinned arrogantly again. "Good girl."

Eric placed his thumb closer to her mouth. Hesitantly, she parted her lips, taking in the digit. The wound was closing and closing fast. Eric felt his stomach pull when she began to drink from his thumb greedily, his mind not above wandering to the thought of her repeating the action on another appendage as her eyes drifted closed.

Eric could feel the small slice finally close and without the blood flowing any longer, she opened her eyes. She stared up at him almost lovingly, her eyes half-lidded and filled with adoration and lust. It was a delicious side-effect. He began to pull his thumb back, smirking when he felt the tip of her tongue lightly flick across it before he pulled it from her full lips with a delicate and arousing 'pop'.

"There now," Eric cooed the words and chuckled internally when she cringed because of it. At least she wasn't stupid enough to believe the tone like others were. "Feel better?"

"Are you going to let me out now?"

Eric reached forward, then hesitated. He wondered, albeit briefly, if he should bother releasing her. While he knew he'd have an easier time controlling her than Anthony had, something aided by his age and remorselessness, he contemplated whether it'd be worth the effort or not. She seemed to notice he was having second thoughts, and immediately reacted.

"You gave me your word." she growled.

"Did I?" he asked with an arrogant grin.

From deep within her throat, he heard a sound that sent a delightful shiver down his spine. It was a hiss, but one so inhuman and hateful that even he felt the power behind it. It was impressive.

"Oh, calm down." he sighed, pushing past the uncomfortable feeling she had created. Eric began to unlatch the ridiculous volume of chains holding her in place. "I'm going to let you out."

She moved anxiously, wiggling from side to side as though it would help in the least. Eric understood the sentiment, but he found it irritating. So, with his great speed, he removed her confines.

The young woman in the box shoved herself to her feet and peeled the chains from her body, brushing them off her shoulders and letting them fall to the ground with echoing clanks.

"Finally." She growled to herself. She bit into one of the leather mitts on her hands and yanked it off before removing the other.

Eric eyed his prisoner. Standing, she was much less enchanting than she'd been inside the box. He was able to see just how dirty she was, how ill-fitting her clothes were, and how ratty her waist-length hair had become.

"When was the last time you bathed?" he asked indignantly.

She looked a bit shocked and embarrassed at his question. "Truthfully, I don't know. I wasn't really given a calendar to mark the days."

"Well," he didn't bother hiding his displeasure with it. "You'll have to change that. I'm not going to have some unwashed homeless person in my bar."

She growled under her breath at the man smiling as he ascended the stairs. He heard her mutter _asshole_ behind him which made him chuckle.

* * *

**AN: **This is an old story that I decided to upload. I just want to say now, even though she doesn't appear until later, that I'm not a Sookie fan. I think the writers did a terrible job with her on the show. Maybe she's better in the books, I don't know, I've never read them, but the show was another story. Everyone else got these great story lines where you'd see their character grow and change, but -at least to me- she had the least development. Every time I started to get on board with the character and like her, the writer's made her do something that just sent it back to square one, so, not a fan. Don't expect too much of her in the story. It'll focus mostly around Pam, Eric, and the OC. I'll also put season/episode names at the top near the chapter for reference when they apply. Anyway, thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Maria felt disgusting. She had made a deal with a vampire, a _fucking vampire_! It made her skin crawl and her fingers ache with the need to act, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything because she gave her word. Honor was still something she held on to, despite how much trouble it generally caused.

But how else was she supposed to handle the situation? How else would she be able to stand on her own two feet again? The truth was, making a deal with the Viking Northman was the lesser of two evils. If she hadn't, she would remain in the box for decades and she knew it. From what little she knew about Northman, the fact that he was ruthlessly honest and uncaring was always constant. She had no doubt, from the moment she looked into his steely grey eyes, that he'd leave her in that box until she starved to death.

Maria didn't know if Anthony and his men were aware she could hear them or not, but she heard them talk about Northman more than once. Anthony kept her in his bedroom at the foot of her bed like some kind of sick hope chest. As a result, she heard about the Sheriff of District Five often. Anthony used to speak of him with agitation-laced fear. She didn't know the specifics of it, but evidently Anthony liked to borrow money and had trouble paying it back. His sums grew to the hundreds-of-thousands-level (interest was, apparently, a bitch) and could no longer pay it. When it reached that point and his patience with Maria had grown transparently thin, he chose to get rid of her. All words ever spoken about Eric Northman by Anthony or any other male were about his attitude. The women, however, spoke openly about his looks, about how handsome and God-like he was. They weren't wrong.

When her eyes first fell on him, Maria finally saw what those women were talking about. Eric Northman was a striking man from his height to his demeanor and everything in between. He was slender from head to toe, but there was no mistaking the muscle there, muscle amplified a thousand fold by his vampiric nature, and while nice, it wasn't what held her attention. It was his eyes shielded by long, ashen-blonde hair that fell to his chin. They were fathomless and intense, blue with a slightly grey tone. They reminded Maria of the ocean during a storm, the same dark, chaotic blue of a tempest that threatened to overturn a ship. They held power and age, and unmistakable pain. Eyes always were windows, and Maria didn't want to know what could hurt a man like him so deeply it scarred his very soul.

She didn't know if he would be worse than Anthony, or better, but she knew everything –at minimum- would be the same, and that wasn't an option. Countless months in a dark box with breathing holes so small a panic attack would make her black out, a literal crust of bread and glass of water a day, and only being taken out once a day for the bathroom were things she never wanted to experience again. So, if she had to make a bargain, to sell her life to a vampire for her freedom, she'd do it. At least with Northman there was an end date.

But she still didn't like him, and doubted heavily that she ever would.

She heard him and his blond companion speaking to the others through the wooden door that separated them. The sound of Anthony's voice made Maria's stomach turn and bile rise in her throat. She was glad he and the others never fed her their blood. In truth, she was fairly certain they didn't want her to have the strength and took to feeding from an IV line in her arm when she proved herself too dangerous. None of them dared get close enough to bite. That was how Anthony lost the first three of his men.

Maria approached the door separating her from the main belly of the club. Her fingers grazed the painted wood. She felt Northman's blood coursing through her, felt the strength and power behind it. At nothing more than a drop, she knew she was as close to completely healthy as she could be. It gave her enough courage to think she might be able to pull it off.

The knife she stole from the kitchen supplies on her way to the back door felt light in her hand, ready. She tightened her grip and took in a deep, steadying breath. Five vampires. There were five vampires on the other side of the door that she was allowed to kill, and while the thought of going after Northman and the blonde had crossed her mind, Maria wasn't so stupid, or naïve. She knew they'd kill her in an instant.

"Tell me how you came across the woman." She heard Eric say.

"I was hunting in a bar in New Orleans." Anthony said. "When I smelled her, I knew I had to try her, but she was stubborn and wouldn't leave."

"No," Maria heard the blonde lady scoff derisively. "You mean she didn't find you charming?"

Maria smiled to herself. She liked the blonde lady as much as she assumed she could. Then again, Maria always liked honesty and sarcasm.

When Anthony spoke again, his voice was a little tighter than before.

"I drugged her drink." He said. "I managed to get her out of the bar, but she began to rebound faster than I thought she would, so I put her in my trunk and took her home. I drugged her again, fed, but she fought back. She was too delicious to waste, so I tied her up, but every time I tried to feed, she'd get more and more violent. Eventually, I found a way to keep her subdued."

"With numerous chains and no food." Eric said.

"I couldn't handle her," Anthony said, sounding thoroughly defeated which made Maria proud. "But I know you can."

Something in Maria told her Northman was likely basking in the complement which annoyed her.

"But, I have to warn you, Sheriff, she's-"

Before he could tell Northman anything Maria didn't want him to know, she burst through the door a bit too aggressively. She heard the wooden frame splinter and saw it rest at an odd angle out of the corner of her eye. She'd broken it, but that was an issue for later.

Shocked eyes turned to her while the blonde lady and Northman seemed nothing but annoyed.

"That was a bit excessive." Eric said, but Maria didn't hear him fully.

The moment her eyes landed on Anthony, she was filled with all of the memories, all of the torture and feedings. She thought of every time he let his friends chew on her and touch her. She thought of the humiliation through the years, and it gave her focus.

The insanity inside her was easily reflected across her face as she met eyes with the vampire who'd been the cause of all of her pain.

"I'm going to kill you now, Anthony." She told him in a voice that reflected the same.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled.

He knew the danger he was in. Good.

Maria ran for him as fast as she could, fueled by Northman's blood and her rage. She passed one of his men and didn't hesitate to swipe her butcher's knife across his throat on her way. There was a splash and a wet thwack that echoed her behind her. Apparently, she'd struck hard enough to decapitate him.

Red blood, body parts, and screams filled Fangtasia's main room as she fought any and every one. She had a single focus: death.

~!~

Eric and Pam stood back watching. Eric couldn't take his eyes off the scene. It was enchanting and surprising. His captive fought with a speed and dexterity that he hadn't seen in a human before. She was vicious and brutal, and her opponents were stupid. Either they'd forgotten they were vampires or her wrath frightened them so much that the thought of running never crossed their minds. They should have run, even if it did make them look like cowards.

It took minutes for it to come to an end, and when it did, there seemed to be almost nothing that wasn't covered with blood and viscera, including the prisoner. She stood in the center of it all, breathing heavily from the exertion. She had "body" in her hair that weighed it down, blood that twisted it into tendrils. Her clothing was slick with red, her shirt clinging to her body, and crimson fluid dripping from her pointed fingernails.

"You made a mess." Eric finally said as he looked over the damage left in her wake.

Her eyes shot to him, breaking her out of whatever blood-craze she'd been in a moment before. Eric felt a little jolt in his chest, a strange sensation when she met his gaze. Her sweet little, child-like face was stripped with blood, too. Ribbons of it cut across her perfect, ivory complexion making her look all the madder. He liked it.

"Clean it up." He ordered simply.

She flinched. "But, the sun's coming."

"It's going to be very difficult for me not to kill you if you keep whining like that." he replied coldly.

"I wasn't whining." she growled through her teeth. "The sun's coming up and I have to get the last four before they go to ground. May I?"

He tilted his head slightly as a smirk touched his lips. What a curious little woman. She clearly hated vampires and hated him for taking her, but she asked permission to leave.

Eric answered easily. "Be back by sun down."

"She needs to be back before that." Pam interjected. "This place is a mess."

"Pam's right." he nodded.

"Oh, no. It'll be cleaned and fixed before the club opens." The prisoner said eagerly. It was the first form of life she'd truly showed since arriving, beyond her smirks and taunts when Eric had first ungagged her. "I'll take care of it."

"Why?" Pam asked. She couldn't help it. She was distrustful.

"I gave him my word." she answered as though it were obvious.

"Well," Eric couldn't keep the arrogant smile from his lips. The whole situation brought it out, the strangeness of it all. "At the moment you owe me two and a half years."

He saw a flicker of annoyance and anger flash in her eyes again, a disappointed rage that made him laugh to himself. For some reason, he enjoyed that she hated their deal so much.

"I know. I'll be back and repair the destruction long before dark."

She headed for the door and nearly made it before Eric appeared in her path. He stared down at her, a woman who barely reached his shoulders, but gave off the power of someone twice her size. It made him smirk again, an increasingly common action since she arrived.

Without a word, he rolled up his sleeve and bit into his wrist. He offered it to her. As before, she eyed the blood with a scowl. He wasn't surprised.

"Drink it, or I'll put you in the box again." He told her plainly.

She glared angrily at him through long, thick black lashes. He liked that, too.

Still brimming with silent defiance, she wrapped the fingers of her small hand around the fabric covered portion of his arm and drank the blood before the wound healed. When it did, she shoved it away just because she could. Stepping around him, she slammed her palm into the door and shoved it violently open. Eric chuckled.

"Well?" Pam asked as he returned to her.

"What?"

"Don't give me that look, Eric." she huffed, rolling her eyes at his childish smirk. "What do you plan on doing with her?"

"Whatever I like."

"And during the day? What makes you so sure she'll return?"

"She's tasted my blood. I can find her no matter where she runs. If she doesn't return of her own free will, I'll force her and I won't be as kind as Anthony."

"Judging by what's left, I don't think he was." she sighed, avoiding the blood with her new shoes as she made her way toward the broken door. "Is she to be your new toy since the waitress doesn't want anything to do with you?"

"Miss Stackhouse is a mild interest."

Pam eyed him skeptically. Until that moment, he had been damn near obsessed with the country girl, so hearing him say something like that was a bit more shocking than he realized. On some small level, he thought he was being honest. Perhaps he was? Or, more likely and what Pam believed, he was downplaying his obsession heavily.

The truth was, Eric did think she was a mild interest because he refused to believe anyone, especially someone as seemingly ordinary as Sookie Stackhouse, held any power over him at all.

The girl in the box would be his new toy, just as Pam said. He was curious about her, not just because of the way she tasted, but also because she was so wonderfully violent. Eric could always appreciate a bit of bloodshed and she did it with a surprising amount of grace, all things considered. Even better was that beautiful rage and defiance in her eyes. She was brave, he had to admit, albeit foolish if she thought he'd be as easy a pushover as Anthony had been.

With her gone and a renewed amount of his blood in her body, Eric and Pam retired for the coming day. Whether the girl returned the following night or not didn't matter. It'd be better for her if she did willingly, but he'd be able to find her regardless.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** I'm glad you guys are enjoying this. Let me know what you think!

**Chapter Three**

As the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, giving birth to the night, Eric rose from his coffin. He'd been awake for nearly a half an hour already, but chose to lie in his place and think. He made plans on how to retrieve the woman from the box because he knew, somehow, that she had no intention of returning to him despite her promise. Throughout the day, he felt none of the fear he should have given she intended to hunt and kill more vampires. Any rational person would be afraid. He felt nothing, in fact, aside from determination so strong he could taste it, so he knew, deep inside, that she fled rather than come back. He wasn't surprised. He expected it, in fact.

Eric pushed open the lid to his coffin with every intention of hunting his prize down and chaining her up in a much smaller box when he smelled it. Cleaning supplies, the stench so chemical he could smell it no matter the distance. He sighed. Apparently Ginger had cleaned up the mess.

Already exasperated just thinking about the work he would have to put in that night, Eric trudged through Fangtasia to the main belly of the bar, and paused. With his hand extended and the tips of his slender fingers barely pressed to the door, he noticed that it had been repaired. In fact, the bright glitter of new brass caught his attention quickly, as did the unpainted frame they were screwed into. He arched a brow curiously. With a gentle push, the door swung open silently on the new hinges.

The smell of chemicals hit him strongly, forcing his narrow nose to curl. He scowled and stopped breathing immediately to save himself the burning it caused, but the scowl vanished when his eyes fell to the pristine layout. Not a chair or table out of place, not a hint of blood remained. Everything glittered like new, even the black and white tiled floor.

Eric stepped deeper into the bar, his keen eyes searching for even a hint of viscera or a droplet of blood left behind, but there was nothing. He knelt down and ran his index finger along a black tile. It squeaked it was so clean, and he could see the outline of his reflection shining back. Not since they renovated to turn Fangtasia into the nightclub it had become were the floors so clean.

"Hm," He mumbled to himself as he stood.

The door to the building opened, throwing the last pink shades of sun in. It drew his attention. He expected, briefly, to see Ginger, though he somehow knew otherwise. Never since he'd employed her had Ginger cleaned anything half as decent as his floor currently was.

A young woman, the woman from the box, was the intruder. She'd cleaned herself, as well. Where dirty clothes had once clung to dirty skin was a freshly laundered black shirt that hung off of narrow shoulders. What had once been torn and stained jeans was now a pair of black shorts, almost invisible beneath the hem of her long shirt. Her skin was devoid of any dirt or grime, leaving the ivory tone of it in bright contrast to before. The pair of strappy, black, ankle-boots on her feet gave her inches more than her own height. And her long, nearly black hair was twisted into a lazy braid and slung over the front of her shoulder.

Her head remained down as she approached him, her face illuminated by the screen of a cell phone. He wondered only briefly where it'd come from.

"You came back."

Pam's voice drew both Eric's eye and that of the girl from the box. She stood in the open doorway that led to the back, her face twisted with clear confusion.

"Why?"

The girl looked from one blonde vampire to the other before her gaze rested on Pam.

"Because we made a deal." The girl replied simply.

Eric scoffed a small laugh. Pam shot him an odd stare, arching a perfectly formed brow at him when she did. He shrugged a single shoulder.

"And," Eric said, drawing the girl's eye. "What did this deal get me?"

She finally stopped a few feet in front of him. He could see her neon eyes flash with anger again, with resentment towards him that, truthfully, almost brought another smile to his lips. There was something undeniably entertaining with the way she felt about him.

"Four years." She said unenthusiastically.

Eric let his smile show, to the point she could see his pearly whites. She scowled and rolled her eyes, apparently not all too pleased with his merriment.

"That's only eight." Pam said as she approached. "Thought there was nine?"

"I couldn't find the last one." She replied with barely-contained bitterness. She leveled her stare on Eric. "But I will."

"Later." He told her. Eric's long legs carried him the short distance between them easily. She didn't bother raising her chin to meet his eye, instead staring up through her lashes. "Right now, I need something else from you."

There was an unmistakable groan that laced his words, one that was perhaps meant to be enticing, but it made her frown. She clearly didn't like it. Then again, it could have been his tone, or the insinuation behind it that caused it.

"I'm not sleeping with you." She told him plainly.

Pam chuckled in the background at her brash and blunt statement, to which Eric smirked, tilting his head to the side as he did.

"Presumptuous, aren't you?" He countered.

"I prefer to say that I'm not an idiot." She told him firmly. "I'm meant to be a food source, not a fuck toy."

He had to admit, he liked it when she spoke so plainly. It was a relief in many ways. Most people tended to dance around their points with him, to skirt the meaning versus risking angering him. The girl from the box wasn't as timid.

"We'll see." He grinned. "For now, I'm famished."

He reached for her hand with every intention of pulling her to his chest to feed, but she snatched it away quickly. A wave of apprehension swept through her, strong enough he not only felt the trickle of it down his spine, but smelled the shift in her body. He narrowed his eyes curiously while she did everything she could not to meet his gaze.

"You don't want to do that." She mumbled. She took a marginal step back, placing her hands behind her. "I'll be in your office."

And without another word, she walked back through the door, stowing her phone in her pocket as she did. Both Pam and Eric watched her with mild curiosity.

"Oh good," Pam said with thick derision as she turned her attention back to Eric. "You have a blood bag that doesn't like being touched. That'll make feeding easy."

"Hm," was all he said.

Eric walked by his smiling progeny and to his office where he found the girl from the box sitting in one of the chairs waiting for him. He immediately snatched her up by the scruff of her neck and shoved her against the wall. Eric was pressed against her in an instance, stood over her at his full height, sure to illustrate that he was the dominant one in their twisted little relationship. But she didn't shy away. In fact, unlike before, she met his stare head on without the slightest apprehension.

"Never disrespect me like that again." He told her sternly, adding a small growl to his words to illustrate his point. "You are here for food. I _own_ you for the next four years. Do you understand me?"

"I do." She answered plainly. "And I accept that, but you can't touch my hands."

His brows pulled together as he narrowed his eyes. Of all the strange, bizarre things she could have said, telling him to avoid her hands never even crossed his mind. It was such a weird request that it actually took him a moment to absorb it.

"Why?" Eric didn't know if he asked because he truly wanted to know, or if it was simply reflexive.

What followed was perhaps the most unsettling thing Eric had ever heard, not because of the words themselves, but the way she said them, so evenly and coldly, that it made him truly second-guess taking her from Anthony, if even for a moment.

"Bad things happen when I touch people."

Eric stared down at her with the first bit of uncertainty he'd ever felt since finding her in the box. There was something about the way she answered him and her unflinching stare that disturbed him. Part of him was curious as to what happened, enough so that he contemplated grabbing her hands regardless of how she felt. Another part didn't care. The part that didn't care won out within a few seconds of thought.

Seeming to sense his acquiescence to her warning, she turned her head to the side, revealing her neck to him without complaint or protest.

His eyes traveled to her throat. They found focus on her artery, watching the way it fluttered beneath her milky skin. Her heartbeat thrummed in his ears, but it was steady, not erratic. She wasn't afraid of what he planned to do, of what she _knew_ he would do.

As his eyes traveled down the gentle slope of her neck, he noticed a glint of silver. He immediately glowered.

"Silver?" He asked with a tight jaw.

She looked at him curiously for a moment before down at her necklace. She reached into her shirt and revealed it to him, a thin silver chain with a pendant on the end, a symbol he didn't recognize. But the longer he looked at it, the more he thought he could.

The body of the pendant was shaped like a narrow oval, though the end that pointed down was sharper, like a head of some kind. Protruding from the rounded end at the top was a long, serpent-like coil that twirled around in a wide arch where the chain was connected before wrapping around the body of the pendant fancifully.

The longer he eyed it, the more certain Eric became that the pendant was a cat. The details had been rubbed away through the years, and it looked beaten from age, but it was indeed a feline that laid flat against her chest.

She said nothing, and with a delicate touch, she removed the jewelry. Eric frowned.

"I never want to see that around your neck again. Do you understand me?"

Again, she said nothing, but nodded and turned her head once again to the side. Eric lunged for her, sinking his fangs deeply into her throat, without warning and without remorse. Perhaps a part of him simply wanted to drive home that he was the one in charge.

She took in a sharp hiss of air and instinctively clung to him. He was used to his prey grabbing his body, just not the surprising amount of strength behind it. Despite her size, her grip was firm, much tighter than it should have been, but he couldn't think on it for long. The moment her blood flooded his mouth, Eric was filled with a level of hunger that surprised him. The taster he'd received earlier was nothing compared to what it tasted like from the vein.

He felt it burn down his throat and fill his gut. He felt it seep into his veins, his muscles, and even his bones. It was like drinking pure fire, like drinking the sun itself. The longer he pulled the blood from her veins, the more certain he was that the power of it, the heat of it, would force his heart to start beating again.

But as the minutes passed and satiation stayed just out of reach, the softer her hold on him became until her hands fell from his body completely. Her knees began to give, and soon he was holding her up more than her own strength. He heard her heart rate slow, and knew he was dangerously close to causing her irreparable damage. Drawing back was difficult, but he reminded himself that she was his. She wasn't going anywhere.

Reluctantly, Eric pulled away from her. He kept his grasp on her arms tight, but saw the damage done. Her head hung listlessly to the side and he knew he'd drunk too much. Angry with himself, and a bit with her for not being able to withstand his feeding, Eric lifted her into his arms and returned her to the seat he'd previously pulled her from. She slumped immediately.

He clenched his jaw so tightly he felt the muscle chord beneath his porcelain skin. Eric bit into his wrist and drew his own blood. With one hand, he held her head in place while he put his wrist to her lips.

"Drink," He commanded.

His voice must have made it through some part of her clouded brain because he felt her tongue swipe across his puncture marks. She didn't take much, but it was enough to wake her. Immediately, she jerked her head away and shot him a hate-filled glare.

"Get away from me." She hissed through her teeth.

"You need to drink." He told her firmly. "You're too weak."

"That's your fault, vampire. Not mine."

His brows rose. She was scolding him for what he'd done, and while she might have the right, he didn't like it. She was challenging him and his authority, again.

"You don't want it, fine." He said as he stood. "You have five minutes to be on your feet and in that bar or," He let his sentence dangle.

She looked at him with her head still lazily dragging. She cocked a single annoyed brow. "You'll put me in the box?" Her sarcasm was evident.

Eric flashed her a quick, temporary smile before leaving her in his office alone. On his way down the hall back into the main portion of the club, he heard her mutter, _prick_. He didn't bother turning around to reprimand her. She deserved her anger, honestly. He nearly killed her the first time he'd been given a chance to drink from her. He slipped, like a fucking baby vamp, and he didn't like it.

Eric lightly trailed his finger across his cold lips, feeling the warmth the remaining blood had left behind. He sucked the remnants off of his dead digit and reveled in the flavor it still had. Tasting it fresh, pumping into his mouth with each heartbeat and tasting the purity of it had made him lose himself within her flavor, and he knew he couldn't let it happen again. He had to repeat to himself that he owned her. She wasn't a passing meal. He could have it whenever he wanted, and that knowledge helped. A bit.

Eric found his seat in his throne and got comfortable. In an hour, the club would open and all types of people from dead to human would flood in. But as he sat there, lining out a plan for that night and making a list, the door to the back opened again. The girl from the box emerged with her neck wiped clean and her skin no longer ashen.

His brows pulled together briefly. Her stance didn't waver, her heartbeat was strong, and her heels hit the tile with determination and strength. To anyone who cared to look, she seemed completely healed. Eric knew his blood was strong, powerful with age, but she barely took enough to heal a few scratches, and yet, she acted as though she hadn't been anemic only two minutes before.

She said nothing as she approached him and, to add to his surprise, stepped behind the thrones. She didn't sit beside him, didn't ask what he wanted her to do. Instead, she took a stance behind his left shoulder, just in his periphery, but in the background. Eric rolled his head lazily to the side.

"What are you?" he asked in a subdued voice.

"Nothing," was her only response.

He didn't believe her completely, but he didn't press, either.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story. Here's another chapter. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

**Chapter 4  
**

The night progressed as the thousand before it had. Loud music played, people rubbed themselves against one another, and pheromones filled the air to the point of suffocation. Eric enjoyed it, normally, but he was slowly becoming bored. With his elbow propped on the arm of his throne, Eric ran his index finger lazily across his icy cold lips.

As his eyes drifted around the scene before him, they landed on the mirrored wall behind the bar. It's angle was a little off, but still allowed him to see the young woman behind him. She'd been unmoving since taking her stance like an obedient little servant. He wondered briefly how true the statement was before another thought, a beautifully constructed and sure to bring him enjoyment sort of thought, entered his mind. With a smirk, he turned his head to the side.

To his surprise, she seemed to know what it meant without him bothering to verbalize. Such a curious little creature.

Silently, she took a stance in front of him, her distant but seeing eyes on him.

"You're going to dance for me."

Her gaze suddenly found laser focus on him, sharp and mad. "What?" she asked with a tight jaw.

Eric leaned into his hand. Running his finger across his upturned lips, he repeated, "You're going to change into something else, and dance for me. Right there." He pointed at the stage and pole not ten yards in front of him and behind her.

She turned to see it and when her gaze returned to his, he saw it again, that vicious and murderous rage. While her exterior remained stoic, and her heart calm, there was no denying that hatred. It stirred things inside him, made his stomach twist with joy and anticipation. He loved her loathing and could drink it as easily as her blood.

When she spoke, her voice was measured, but tense, as though she was attempting to keep the raging beast inside. "I am not a simpering whore who's going to strip for you."

Eric moved quickly, lunging for her before she could blink. His cold, steely hand nearly encompassed her neck when he grabbed it. He held her firmly just beneath her jaw, forcing her head up and back so she could meet his eye. Her heart finally began to beat just an iota faster than before, but still he sensed no fear. There was nothing beyond her sweltering skin and her pulse charging beneath his grasp.

He lowered his face until it was mere inches from hers. The open-aired smell of her skin that he'd caught mere whiffs of before was much stronger now that it was no longer obstructed by dirt, so much sweeter.

"You will do as I say." He told her in a quiet, commanding voice. "I own you. For the next four years, you are mine. Now, go!"

Eric launched her back, throwing her away from him. He didn't toss her hard, but just enough. He'd seen her grace before, her speed and agility, and he wanted to see it again. She did not disappoint.

Like a gymnast or acrobat, she twisted her slender body in midair. As she came down, her fingertips grazed a table. He saw her push herself back just hard enough she could clear the obstruction and landed just beyond it. She stayed there, low to the ground for only a moment before bringing herself to her full height again. He swore her eyes had turned to green flames, the way they glowed and her hatred danced within them. What he'd done to her gave them life.

For a few seconds, she was a statue vibrating with desire to act. Eric could taste it. But she did nothing. She said nothing.

Eventually, she turned on her heel and left, walking through a wide berth of patrons before disappearing through the door. Eric shot Pam a glance. She was grinning from her place behind the bar, and knew what he wanted. With the grace she was known for, the towering blonde in six-inch heels glided into the back.

Eric regained his seat and everyone else returned to what they were doing as though nothing had happened.

About thirty minutes later, Pam emerged from the back with a smirk even more wicked than before. Eric arched a curious brow. She seemed proud. A moment later, he saw why.

The girl soon appeared wearing something rather delicious. It was a dress he knew Pam owned, but hadn't seen her wear in nearly a year. The black sequin caught the light and glittered like the scales of a snake. It was a halter-top of Grecian inspiration. The front was gathered fabric left the fall in constructed folds, folds that dipped perhaps ten inches lower than on a normal dress. It was the sort of thing that had to be taped into place to keep anything from popping out.

He knew the back was nonexistent as well, designed so those behind her could see her shoulder blades and the curve of the spine, ending perhaps an inch above her tailbone. The only part of the dress that was tight was the six or so inches of fabric that wrapped around the wearer's hips and backside, though it ended just after.

A steely silver spike kept her hair up and off her neck, and her eyes were swept in black. The deep color made the green glow with life like before, though that could have also been her emotions towards Eric at that moment.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Pam had outdone herself, he thought. The girl looked delicious, like a scrumptious treat that needed to be devoured. Eric felt his slacks grow ever-so-slightly tighter than before in his excitement. Part of him almost didn't want to waste her on the pole, instead content to scoop her up and take her into the back, but he didn't. He told her to dance, so she was going to dance.

Her eyes hadn't left his once, defiantly locked to his gaze as she crossed the room and stepped up onto the stage. Her delicate hand wrapped around the pole as she took her place and waited. The violent need he saw in her was just as intoxicating as the outfit.

The music suddenly cut out halfway through the current song and shifted to something else. Immediately Eric knew it was Pam's choice. Playing the song _Porn Star Dancing_ was simply her little jab at the situation and it made him smile.

As the song began, the girl from the box raised her arm delicately above her head. She gently tugged the spike from her hair, letting it fall in long, flowing waves down to her waist. He expected her to toss it aside, but instead, she launched it in his direction. The dangerous spike came to an abrupt halt in his chair, imbedded deeply in the wooden armrest between his splayed fingers. Eric eyed it briefly before turning his gaze on her again. She wanted him to see how dangerous she could be, and he did, he just doubted it struck the level of fear in him that she wanted.

When she began to move, to roll her hips and sway to the song, Eric noticed something disturbing. Slowly but surely, the light faded from her eyes. They became distant, cold, and empty. His brows knitted together.

The song continued to play and she continued to dance in the most seductive and skilled ways. It was clear she had perfect control over her body and knew how to use it in ways that made women jealous and men harder than stone, but it was shallow. She'd become a hollow shell, the body remaining behind while all the life within it skittered away to some far off place

Finally, after the allotted time, the song ended. She went still like before, standing on the platform motionless. The life returned to her eyes along with her hatred. They sparkled again and he preferred it, even if the sparkle was because she wanted to kill him. But she wouldn't. Within the torrent of emotions that coursed through her, Eric saw the restraint, too. He saw how she held herself back, how she bit her tongue, and all for the sake of their bargain. He'd never say it out loud, but he respected her for it. Few people would so willingly hand themselves over to someone they knew would likely torture and humiliate them, even if they benefitted in the end.

Eric gave her the slightest of nods in approval. She leapt down from the platform and began her trek back to the dais, walking through the crowd to rejoin him when someone did something so foolish, they should have known better. Some cocky vampire who'd joined the party later than the rest reared back and landed his palm flat against her backside. Before the sound of the slap ended, Eric had the vampire pinned to a table by his throat, his fangs barred as he hissed.

"Get. Out." He said angrily. Eric rose, still holding the vampire by the throat, and threw him through the air. After he hit the ground, he rebounded quickly and scurried away.

Grinning, Eric turned once more to the girl from the box. "You see? I'm not such a bad guy. You're under my protection, too."

"I don't need protection." She spat angrily.

He watched as she spun on her heel and returned to her spot on the dais behind his throne. Her eyes didn't flicker back to him, and instead found some random place on the distant wall to focus on.

But something was different now. Despite the makeup and how faint they were, Eric saw bags forming beneath the girl's eyes. It was only then that Eric realized she'd been awake for a very long time. Unless she took a nap during the day, and given what she had to do he doubted it, then the girl had been awake for at least twenty-four hours. Anthony brought her to Fangtasia around two o'clock the previous morning. Plausibly, she'd been awake that whole night. It was currently one in the morning a day later.

"Go," Eric said with a sigh as he regained his seat.

"Where?"

"To sleep." He replied without bothering to look at her as he spoke.

"I have nowhere _to_ sleep." She told him shortly. "And I'm not going back in that damn box."

Eric sighed at her impertinence. "7843 North Parish Avenue." he told her simply in a stern voice he knew she wouldn't dispute. "Something tells me you won't have trouble getting in."

She said nothing as she walked away, slinking back through the crowd to disappear. A moment later, she emerged in her own clothing and with a folded piece of paper in hand, likely the directions. She didn't even bother looking at him as she left.

* * *

The sun was nearing its awakening for the day and Fangtasia was closed. Saying his farewell to Pam, Eric headed to his home, the place he knew the young woman was sleeping. He ran there, not bothering to take a car when he lived so close.

Within moments he stood before his house, quaint in appearance and to anyone who cared to look, it was nothing more than some fifties-styled ranch that a family of however-many-brats and their parents would likely live in. It didn't stand out, and he liked it that way. Though, the inside was a different story.

Opening the door he was greeted with the familiar and the calming. Tapestries and paintings of his former gods, and other pieces his people's work hung in various places and despite the antiques from his youth and homeland, it was incredibly modern. Dark paint touched the walls, and thick, light-blocking curtains hung on the windows he didn't have furniture in front of. Tossing his keys onto the long table in his foyer, Eric walked into the hallway and towards his bedroom, removing his leather jacket as he went.

Nothing looked disturbed and he found himself wondering if she'd come into the home at all before hearing the faint thump of a heartbeat. He cocked a brow, moving to a cracked door and peeking into his guest room. There, in the center of a lavish bed, was the bump he knew as his captive. She was on her back, sprawled over the mattress as he approached her side. She seemed dead to the world, her fair skin and dark hair adding to the lifeless appearance. Her black hair was adorning the lily white pillows beneath her head like some kind of dark halo, her clothes one of his shirts. He couldn't help but grin at the fact that she had stolen something to sleep in, though he expected little else.

Turning, Eric went to his own room, the next one over, and finished removing his clothes. He liked sleeping in a bed when the chance was offered, preferring it to a coffin or the ground because he liked to spread out. He wasn't stupid though, putting an old armoire in front of the only window. It was a large, almost wall-width window that had more than a few thick curtains adorning it and his large piece of furniture was placed in the center where the fabric was the thinnest.

He finished undressing and pulled back the curtains that hung around his four-poster, canopy bed and crawled within. He made sure they were closed as well before slipping off into his sleep, nestled deeply within the overstuffed mattress.

* * *

The Viking vampire roused at some point and had the distinct feeling the sun was still out, a theory that was confirmed when he caught a glimpse of his clock. He growled at waking in the middle of the day, but his mind soon drifted to the young woman in the other room. He was hungry.

Eric stood and left his bedroom. Immediately he could tell something was open. There was the distinct scent of fresh air. Moving quickly, Eric checked the room to find her gone and went to search the rest of the house. He need only reach the end of the hall.

The living room was filled with sunlight. He froze, staring daggers at the door shaped-white light that stretched across the floor. He shifted just enough to peer around the corner of the hallway. Sitting in the threshold was the girl from the box bathing in sunlight.

"Is there a reason my door is open?"

She turned her head to the side but only slightly. He leaned his back against the hallway wall so he could see her but avoid the shining outline of his door.

"You need some fresh air in your home." she said finally. "I wasn't expecting you up this early, otherwise I would have warned you."

"And you're wearing my shirt."

"And I broke into your house. And I left the premises without your permission." she countered sarcastically. "You're not my father, only my employer. Try to remember that."

He chuckled at her eagerness to remain as professional in their agreement as she could. Their agreement being she could slaughter nine vampires with the understanding that she would be his slave for an allotted amount of time.

"You had no food so I went down the street to get some coffee and something to eat." she finally said in a calmer voice.

"What did you use for money?"

"Believe it or not, I have my own. I did have a life before Anthony got his greedy little paws on me."

He wasn't sure why, but he hadn't thought about it. As far as he knew, or cared to know, she was always in the box she had arrived in.

"You need to go back to bed."

"And why is that?" he asked coldly. He didn't like the commanding tone her simple words held.

"You're bleeding."

She was right. From the moment he woke, Eric had felt the blood slowly but surely gathering in his ears. By the time she mentioned it, crimson had already trailed down the sides of his neck and to his shoulders. It was beginning to trickle out of his nose, as well, but he refused to show that it mattered.

"It's nothing." he replied before something curious crossed his mind. "How did you know that?"

She sighed and stood, heaving herself up and dusting her body off as she gripped her coffee cup and then walked inside. She glanced down to see the large man's hiding place and closed the door, once again engulfing the home in darkness. Eric all but sprang to life the second the door was shut, racing forward close enough to feel the heat from the sun radiating off her skin.

As before, she met his stare emotionlessly, but he heard a shift, smelled it. She was excited, just a little, but it was there. Evidently, she liked the way he looked without a shirt.

"I can smell it." she answered in a soft voice, finally able to drag her gaze away from his. "Come. You need to be cleaned off."

He watched with narrowed eyes as she walked toward the back of the house. Impossible.

"You can smell it?" he asked curiously while he followed her into the kitchen.

He wasn't focused on what she was doing. Eric found himself more concerned and fascinated by what she said, so he barely noticed that she'd set her coffee cup on the counter and wet a washcloth beneath the tap. She approached him when it was sufficiently damp.

"Yes, I can smell it." she muttered, looking at the long trail of blood on either side of his chest and freezing for a moment. Her hand hesitated and Eric felt his pride grow at the look in her eyes when she saw him standing bare from the hips up.

"See something you like?"

She looked up and met his eyes, her cheeks flushing despite her face remaining unchanged. She scowled slightly. Without a word, she wrapped the rag around her bare hand so she wouldn't touch him, and began to wipe the blood free. He stood there, towering over the young woman that came to his shoulder. He tilted his head to the side and watched as she gingerly wiped his skin, clearly trying to focus on the blood and not what she was wiping it from. But something still lingered in his mind. She can smell blood.

"What are you?"

Her eyes twitched up to his for a moment before she went to the sink and rinsed the rag. After wringing out the excess water, she returned.

"Sit."

He did. The only reason he did was that he loved having women tend to him.

"I asked you a question."

"Nothing special." she answered as she glided the cloth up his chest and to his shoulders.

Eric grabbed her wrist sharply, forcing her to look at him but, yet again, she wasn't scared. Blank eyes stared back. And then he said something he hadn't previously thought of, something that left his lips before it even entered his mind.

"You're not human."

Her head tilted gently to the side. The weight of her hair dragged across her neck as it fell to gravity. She blinked once before saying something he didn't expect.

"I was unaware I had to be."

Eric felt a jolt race through him.

"What are you?" he demanded this time.

Eric knew she could hear the warning in his voice. Even though they'd spent only a single night together, he could tell she was intelligent. Such a trait was hard to disguise, so he was certain she knew something bad would happen if she didn't tell him the truth.

"I'm a were."

"A were, what?" He asked tightly. "Because it's not a wolf."

"No, I'm not a werewolf."

He ground his teeth. Eric's patience with her was growing thinner by the moment. For a woman who'd been nothing but upfront and honest, her coy behavior was more than a little irritating. But then, suddenly, it donned on him.

"You're a werecat." He said. Her pendant was feline. It made sense.

"Yes," she replied.

"And you didn't find this relevant to share?"

"Don't pretend to care what I am, Viking. The only reason you ask is to assess if I'm a threat or not. Nothing more."

"You seem sure of that."

"And you're not denying it."

He twitched a smile.

"How heightened are your senses?" he asked, his mind already thinking of how he could use her further.

"As compared to what?"

"Humans."

She snorted a laugh as she returned to the sink to clean the rag once more.

"Exponentially better than humans."

"Vampires."

"I don't know." She told him. "I've never tested it against a vampire. There was never any need." She finished cleaning him off shortly after and took a step back. "I'm going to take a shower. You should go to bed and rest before you start bleeding again."

Eric watched her leave. A moment later, he heard running water in the guest bathroom. She was lying. She wasn't a werecat. She didn't smell like one and she didn't taste like one, either. In fact, there was nothing animalistic about her beyond her physicality.

With long, smooth steps, Eric returned to his bedroom with the intention of sleeping for the rest of the day. He eyed the bathroom door as he passed it. The Girl in the Box bothered him, and he couldn't pinpoint why. He wanted to glamour her, truthfully. At least then she couldn't lie. But at the same time, he didn't want to put forth the effort. Did it really matter what she was? He was stronger, faster, and older, and her blood was delicious.

He would be forever skeptical, though. For as long as she was in his "employment", Eric would keep a closer eye on her than he'd initially planned because she was something other than human. That part he believed.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this so far! Here's a new chapter, let me know what you think and, as always, enjoy!

**Chapter Five**

Two months had come and gone, and Maria counted every single day. Two months out of forty-eight was barely a dent. In fact, it was barely a notch, almost unnoticeable, but it was two months still gone.

She still lived at Northman's, too. It was something she wished she could change, but when she told him she wanted a place of her own, he flat-out refused. She wasn't surprised. Maria had no delusions about her station. While she might verbally express that she was an employee, she knew she was a slave. She'd been bought and sold like property, so she was very aware of her status. That being said, she was also aware that she had an extreme amount of freedom already.

And while sometimes she wished she lived alone, sometimes she actually was. Northman didn't sleep at his house every day. He did at first, for a couple of weeks because he wanted to keep an eye on her as best he could, but that overbearing side of his began to dwindle. Eventually, it got to the point that if he needed or wanted to sleep at Fangtasia, he would, which left her alone in the house. She liked that. Maria had been alone most of her life. People made her uncomfortable.

Working at Fangtasia was an odd experience, and one she couldn't quite classify. The "uniform" she could do without, but pushing your tits high so that people could gawk made sense. She would work the bar, tend to the stock, or clean when it closed. If there was nothing for her to do, she'd take her stance behind Northman. She knew it stroked his ego. How could it not when the man had an actual throne in his club? It was safe to say he fancied himself royalty, so she catered to that while she had to.

Maria had met Ginger her second night at the club. Ginger was… interesting, to say the least. The woman was small, and unbelievably thin. She couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds, and was constantly covered in bite marks. At first, she wondered why no one bothered to heal Ginger after feedings, but she learned why within a week or so. Clearly, no one wanted to bond themselves in that way to the neurotic woman. Then again, would she be so crazy if they didn't torture her? There was probably a time when Ginger was actually normal, though that was likely a long time ago.

With two cases of TrueBlood in her arms, stacked one on the other, Maria entered the club. She shimmied her way behind the bar and past Pam. As delicately as possible, she set them down and tore into the first so she could restock the supply. Through the weeks, she bothered with hiding her strength less and less. What was the point? She'd never truly show them how strong she was, but Eric wasn't an idiot. She could tell he knew she was lying that day when he asked what she was, and even if he didn't, he saw what she did to Anthony and his men. No simple human or were could've done that. Thankfully, he hadn't broached the subject again, but he did watch her like a hawk.

As Maria opened the second box of TrueBlood, Pam sauntered over. With her hand on her hip and her typical level of smooth sass, she spoke.

"There's a shipment comin' in tomorrow at eight." She said. "I need you to sign for it. Ginger's… well, she's two shades above useless when it comes to doin' it fast."

"Fine," Maria replied. When she put the last bottle in the cooler, she picked up her boxes and stood. Pam was directly in her path and showed no signs of moving. "Excuse me."

A wicked grin twisted Pam's fiery red lips. She arched a brow and let her sapphire eyes drag over Maria's body.

"You don't like bein' here, do you?" She asked as she met Maria's gaze again.

"Should I?"

"Oh, come on." Pam cooed as she stepped closer. She didn't stop until she was nearly pressed against Maria. "We're not so bad, are we?"

"You're better than being starved and chained up in a box." She replied coldly. "But I wouldn't brag about it. Excuse me."

Pam smiled wide, flashing her perfect teeth, and shifted just enough to the side that Maria could pass her. Maria rolled her eyes and left, slipping into the back again so she could throw the empty boxes into the compactor.

Ever since she'd arrived, Pam took to teasing. It didn't bother Maria in the least, but some nights, like tonight, she just wasn't in the mood for the blonde's biting tongue.

After tossing the boxes away, feeling only brief respite from the sweltering club outside, Maria returned. She walked through the halls with a practiced ease and familiarity that bothered her to have. When she turned the corner, ready to dip into the stock room again for the third case of TrueBlood needed up front, she was confronted by Northman. He stood in the hall, tall and imposing with his head tilted forward as he stared at her. She wasn't certain why he did that. Perhaps it was because he liked the way his hair fell into his face? Maybe he thought he looked more intimidating? She didn't know, but she could tell by his grin that he wanted to feed. Maria let out a soft sigh and her shoulders slumped, but that didn't stop her from joining him in his office.

Northman fed daily from her. Thankfully, he'd become more careful after the first night. The idiot almost killed her. She might be able to heal, but it was nowhere near fast enough to keep up with what he'd done to her. She knew from the beginning that he was greedy and his daily "rations" were simply proof of that. Vampires only needed to feed once every few days, or week, but no, not Northman.

He closed the door behind them when they entered his office. She turned to face him. Northman held out his hand, a silent command for her wrist. Maria handed it over. She was no longer afraid to touch him because she'd found a nice pair of thin leather gloves. She felt protected wearing them. Nothing would get through.

Maria handed over her right wrist. He clasped it firmly and tugged her close, delighting in any reaction he could get from her. Rarely one was given. Maria refused to give him what he wanted, and he knew it, but he tried anyway.

Northman lifted her to his mouth and bit down. Maria felt every centimeter of his fangs pierce her skin. She'd grown accustomed to the sensation, but still winced. One could only get so used to being stabbed.

He drank freely from her veins. One thing she would never get used to was the feeling of having her blood drawn through the puncture wounds, pulled out by the mouth of another. It didn't disgust her like it probably should. It intrigued her. How annoying must it be to work so hard for food. Humans only had to pop it into their mouths and chew. Surely slicing her wrist and filling a glass to drink from would be easier? Perhaps they got something else out of it? She'd never ask. Why bother? But one question did come to mind, again. It'd been plaguing her for weeks, and she finally felt the need to ask.

As Northman fed, she finally spoke.

"Why do you only bite my wrists and neck?"

Apparently, he found her question curious and stopped. He stood upright, her blood glistening on his lips as he looked down at her. A devilish glint flashed in his stormy eyes.

"Why?" He asked leadingly. "Where else would you like me to bite?"

Northman smiled a wicked smile as he dragged his eyes all over her. Maria could feel them as easily as tangible hands, feel the way they dug into her. She felt heat gather in her cheeks, but didn't her best to remain stoic.

"Don't flatter yourself." She told him.

Northman met her eyes again and chuckled. "Don't tease."

She scowled. "Are you done?"

Still grinning, she watched Northman pierce his tongue with the pointed tip of his fang. When he brought her wrist to his mouth again, he dragged it along her flesh, sealing the wounds left behind. When they closed, he sucked the remainder off before dropping her wrist. If anything, he was thorough. Northman rarely left a trace behind for her to clean off.

"Why ask if it's not what you want?" He asked with a teasing tone that wasn't lost on her.

"Anthony used to bite…" Maria stopped herself. Actually, the memories flashing through her mind made her stop.

They still tormented her, woke her up in the middle of the day. What he did would never fully leave her, but she could cope, and did. Closing her eyes, she took in a few breaths to steady herself before looking up at Northman again. When she did, she noticed an odd expression on his face. He was no longer grinning and teasing. Instead, he was blank and, if she looked a little closer, angry. She didn't know why or what prompted it. She highly doubted the disgust she felt at the memories or the fear –no matter how slight- was strong enough for Northman to feel, too. Nevertheless, he didn't look pleased. Still, she moved past it.

"Other things." She replied. "At least until I nearly took his ear off."

The smile returned, accompanied by a small scoff of a laugh. "Of course you did."

His voice held no patronizing tone, which disarmed her more than it should. In fact, he sounded almost proud.

"How about this?" He said. "I'll bite something else," His eyes immediately drifted to her exposed cleavage and lingered. "When you ask me to bite something else." He looked at her again. "Deal?"

She glowered in response, something he seemed to enjoy. "Can I get back to work?"

Without a word, Northman stepped aside and let her leave. After she closed the door behind her, Maria couldn't fight the shudder that tore through her as an image of her and Northman wrapped around one another, their naked bodies entwined and his fangs piercing her breast flashed in her mind. It was as uncomfortable as the sex-dreams she had about him whenever she drank his blood. True, he was perhaps one of the sexiest men she'd ever seen, but he was a dick, and, as she'd said before, she had no intentions whatsoever of sleeping with him.

* * *

When closing time came, Maria wasn't surprised that Northman joined her at his house. He'd spent the previous three nights at Fangtasia and she assumed he felt that was enough time without her under thumb.

Under his roof, the pair barely spoke. There was nothing that needed to be said between them, so why bother with useless speech? Maria was relieved he seemed to be like her in that regard. She was never one for forced conversation. The waste of breath was rarely, if ever, worth it.

Maria had just finished her dinner as the sun began to peak over the horizon behind the house. The sky was a brilliant pale blue and the smell of rain and dew filled her nose. She liked eating outside on Northman's back porch, and he preferred it, too. He told her she couldn't keep food in the house, or cook it, because he smelled nothing but rot when it was around. He was an asshole when he explained it, but she respected his wishes. It was his house, after all, even if she was a captive in it. There were some things she couldn't unlearn, no matter how old she became or what the situation was. Manners were one of those things.

When she finished, she crunched up the paper bags and plastic containers from her fast food and walked to the side of the house. She deposited them in the trash before returning inside.

"How can you eat that swill?" Northman asked as she walked through the back door into the kitchen.

"I don't have a choice." She told him plainly as she retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge. Drinks were all she was permitted because smell couldn't escape the plastic container until she opened it. "Trust me, McDonalds is far from my first choice."

"I can taste it in you. Stop it."

Maria stared at him. She hoped he could see how frustrated she was because she wasn't bothering to hide it.

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do, hm?" She snapped angrily. For some reason, she didn't fear speaking to him so rudely. Though, in truth, she wasn't afraid to speak to a_nyone_ like that. Her father always did say she ran her mouth too much. "I have to eat, too, but I can't keep food in the house and you won't let me move out, so what else is there?"

Northman said nothing for a moment. He continued to lean against his countertop with his arms crossed in front of him. She could practically see his mind working out a solution, one where he still got what he wanted, while catering to her needs, too. She doubted he'd be willing to call it "compromise", but if he wanted her to taste better, that's what he had to do. It was unlikely he was willing to endure four years of subpar blood.

"I'll put a refrigerator in the garage." He finally said. "You can keep whatever you like it there, but continue to eat outside."

"And to cook it?"

He scowled. "Don't push me."

"Fucking asshole," she scoffed as she turned to walk away.

Before she could take a step, Northman was in front of her again, staring down his nose. "You need to learn some respect." His voice was filled with warning, but she didn't care.

Something inside her snapped. There was no lead up to it, no indication it was coming, but the anger she had towards Northman erupted within her and since violence wasn't an option, she spouted her vitriol.

"For you?" She didn't bother hiding her sarcasm and annoyance. "Are you kidding? I show you nothing _but_ respect. I do everything you tell me to do. I let you gnaw on me like a chew toy just to get your fix. I sleep when you do, I work at your fucking club for free, and I barely eat because I can't be more than a few yards away and you hate the smell of human food. I shook my ass on a fucking pole, because you wanted some goddamned entertainment and to see me humiliated. And on top of that, you want me to watch my mouth, too? Fine, whatever you say, Master. Can I go brush my teeth now, Master? Can I go to sleep?"

His jaw was tight as she sent vicious barbs at him. She saw his rage through his stormy eyes, saw how angry he was becoming, but she couldn't stop. Once opened, the floodgates refused to close again. Everything tumbled from her mouth, and honestly, she didn't care. Fuck Eric Northman.

"I should-"

"What?" she interrupted. "Lock me in the box again?" She jutted her chin forward. "Then do it." She said through her teeth.

Northman reacted swiftly. Almost before she could fathom it, he had her pinned to a wall by her throat. His fangs were bared as he hissed an unnatural sound. She felt his cold, long, steely fingers enclose almost entirely around her throat, squeezing it just enough to cut off most of her precious air. His eyes burned with fury.

"You want to kill me, don't you?" Her words were choked and forced, barely able to make it past her lips, but she managed. "Then do it. Trust me when I say, there's nothing you can do to me that hasn't been done already, except death." She inched closer, as much as his death-grip would allow, further instilling her point. "I'm not afraid of you."

She noticed the corner of his eye twitch ever-so-slightly. He believed her, she could tell.

They remained like that for minutes, each waiting for the other to react. They waited there so long, in fact, that Northman began to bleed because the sun had fully risen. He didn't know what to do with her. He didn't know if he should punish her for being insolent, to shove her back into the box, or flat-out kill her. Either way, they were both things she told him to do, things she challenged him to do, so she knew he didn't like them as options.

Finally, the statue Northman had become began to move. He inched closer to her, nearly brushing her nose with his.

"I want you out of my sight." His voice was low and threatening. "You will stay in your room until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?" She didn't reply. He shook her sharply once. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she hissed.

Northman didn't reply. Instead, he lobbed her away, throwing her through the air like he had the night she danced. Maria caught herself easily before she would have slammed into another wall. She knew immediately he hadn't tossed her as hard as he could have, which was restraint on his part. In fact, she was well aware that every time he "assaulted" her, it was nowhere near his full strength. He used only enough force to show her he had the ability. He used it to intimidate her. Maria highly doubted that if she were human, he'd use the same tactics.

When she stood again, Maria charged to her room, slamming the door behind her when she made it. Her hands were shaking, her entire body trembling. She wanted to fight. She wanted to sink _her_ teeth into Northman and tear his flesh for a change. But she didn't. She didn't do anything.

* * *

Eric was still seething long after he retired to his room. It took him well over an hour just to calm. If it hadn't been morning, he would have hunted just to gain some form of satisfaction when he killed something. The Girl in the Box infuriated him to a level he hadn't experienced before. She hit every nerve he possessed and some he didn't even know he had. She was defiant and brash and loud. She was too proud and too goddamn stupid to know how dangerous it was.

And still, he preferred it to blind submission.

She was sold to him, her life given without her consent. He expected resistance like any rational being would. If she'd simply rolled over and accepted her fate, he knew he wouldn't have enjoyed her nearly as much, and probably killed her weeks ago. But did she have to be so fucking defiant? Did she have to challenge and taunt him at every turn? Her one and only saving grace was that she hadn't done it in front of others, only in the privacy of his own home. Without hesitation he would have put her in the box for that.

Around noon, Eric finally relaxed enough he thought he could drift to sleep. He'd leave her in her room for a few days, away from him and everything else. She'd probably escape to eat, however. He'd decide later if he'd let her think she got away with it or not.

As he began to drift, his body and mind caressing the veil between asleep and awake, a bolt of fear, pure and powerful, shot through him. It shocked Eric, forcing him upright in his bed. His eyes were wide, his breathing heavy, and he knew his heart would be racing if it could. He had never felt anything so intense in his life, and it terrified even him.

A split second later, before his mind had a chance to calm, an ear-splitting scream roared through the halls of his house. The high-pitched shriek threatened to burst his sensitive eardrums for the few seconds it lasted. He knew immediately who the pain-filled sound belonged to.

In an instant, Eric was on his feet and in the girl's room, standing beside her bed to see what had caused the panic. His teeth were bared, his muscles primed, and his eyes darting to find the monster hiding in the shadows, but there wasn't one. There was nothing, except her.

Eric's brows knit in confusion as he looked down at the young woman sleeping in her bed. He approached her cautiously and took everything into account. Her skin was glistening with beads of sweat and pink with exertion despite his house being a balmy sixty-degrees. Her lips were parted as she breathed heavily, nearly all the blankets had been kicked off her body, and her face was twisted in agony.

As he stood there, she began to whimper. It was a soft, delicate, and pathetic sound he hadn't thought her capable of making. And, before he could come to terms with everything, she screamed again. He felt the vibrations of it hit him as hard as the fear she was experiencing. It was dizzying, and enough to make the ancient vampire nearly double over. He had to put an end to it, if anything to save himself.

Eric sat on the bed beside the now-thrashing young woman. Whatever she was fighting in her nightmare, it didn't look at though she was winning.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

"Hey," He said, loudly enough she should have been able to hear it. "Wake up." She didn't respond. "Wake up!"

Without warning, she wrenched her hands free with a surprising level of strength and lashed out. Eric felt the flesh on his cheek split open, felt the point of her fingernails slice through it almost effortlessly as she shot up.

The moment she was awake, she scrambled away from him, clamoring to get to the other side of the bed. He didn't move, still a little stunned by what had just happened.

It took her a little while to calm again, to steady her heart and breathing, and when she did, her gaze fell immediately to his cheek. Eric felt it stitching itself up. When it had, he rolled his head lazily toward her.

"Well, that was unnecessary." He said sardonically.

Her mouth gaped open as she struggled to find words. "I'm sorry." She finally said. "I'm… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

He didn't speak. Too many things were vying for his attention in his mind, but first and foremost was her fear. Of all the things that he had known happened to her, not once did she display the slightest inkling of the emotion. But something in her head, something unseen, terrified her to the point she attacked him.

She continued to stare at him, tendrils of hair clinging to her sweating skin, her face still reflecting her fear and worry. Eric lingered for only a moment before he rose to his feet and left her room. He didn't know what to do with her, so he chose to go to bed. It wasn't as though he was going to comfort the woman. He wasn't that sort of person even with those who knew him well, so he wasn't going to wrap his arms around the scared little girl and hold her close. The thought alone actually made him quite uncomfortable, so he simply left her to settle herself.

As he laid down in his bed again, staring up at the thick tapestry ceiling of his canopy bed, he did wonder about the nightmare. What horrible creature haunted her dreams to the point it left her screaming and waking in a cold sweat?

Eventually Eric closed his eyes, intending once more to sleep after the jarring situation. His body slumped and his mind emptied, but in the distance he heard the soft, gentle words coming from the guest bedroom. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it. She was praying, in Russian.

"_Grant me the strength of my father, and of our ancient line. May it banish the darkness that has marked me. Grant me the strength of my father, and of our ancient line. May it banish the darkness that had marked me."_

Over and over, with her gentle voice, she repeated the prayer, begging some unseen force for aid. Perhaps it brought her comfort, Eric couldn't say, but the sound of her voice and the constant whisper lulled him back to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** Ugh! I love that you guys are enjoying this. Here's the newest chapter up much earlier than I'd planned. Not gonna lie, doin' it cause I love the comments. lol. I like this chapter a lot, too. Anyway, let me know what you guys think, and, as always, enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

_Season 2, Ep. 3_

Scratches

Maria had been "punished" for a week before she received a phone call from Northman telling her to return to Fangtasia. She hadn't seen or spoken to him since she cut open his face. Maria was still angry about that. She hadn't had a nightmare in years, seen that creature's face in so long that she thought he'd vanished, but no. She blamed the stress Northman put her under. Because of the vampire, she hadn't been able to keep _him_ out of her head.

It was nearly midnight when Maria entered Fangtasia. The club was in full swing. There was loud music and people everywhere, but she saw neither Pam nor Northman. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, already annoyed that she'd been "summoned" only to find them gone.

After weaving through the crowd, she pushed open the _Employees Only_ door and headed for the office. The smell hit her first, the smell of blood, sweat, and filth. It curled her nose. She didn't know what the source was until she opened the door and found Pam and Chow standing over a man, bloodied, laying on the couch.

"What are you doin' here?" Pam asked.

"I don't know." Maria replied. "He told me to come to Fangtasia, so, I'm here."

"How very loyal of you." She sneered. Pam always derived a strange sort of sick pleasure with Maria's circumstance. But she didn't care. Maria viewed Pam as a benign being, at least towards her. Pam wasn't interested in Maria beyond the taunts, so Maria remained uninterested in Pam.

* * *

Northman finally arrived roughly an hour and a half after Maria, casually strolling in while he flipped through his mail. Maria eyed him curiously. It'd only been a week, but apparently Northman went through a makeover. His ashen-blonde hair was cut much shorter. It suited his face and let it be on display. He was handsome with the long hair, but Maria thought the shorter style suited him better.

"Sorry you had to wait so long."

He spoke to the room, though Maria had the distinct impression he was speaking only to Pam and Chow. When he walked right by her, he didn't bother lifting his head to acknowledge her, but he did address her.

"Girl," he said as he stepped behind his desk. "I need you to grab whatever cleaning supplies you used in the club and go down to the basement." He finally met her gaze. "Clean it up. The smell is growing offensive, even up here. We have clientele to think of."

Maria said nothing, but offered him a small nod while containing the urge to protest. As she left, he spoke once again.

"Oh, and take the body to the nearest swamp. I'm sure the gators will make quick work of it."

She paused and turned on her heel. Maria arched a brow. "Body?"

"Well," A smirk twisted his lips, "Parts of one, at least." Then he added, playfully, "I know you're not squeamish."

Maria rolled her eyes as she exited the office in search of everything she used to clean up Anthony and his men the night she was released from her box.

It took nearly twenty minutes for her to find everything she could possibly need. Maria had no intentions of making multiple trips because she forgot something, so with a bucket, ammonia, bleach, a broom, and a number of trash bags, she trudged downstairs.

The smell was much worse than it'd been on the main floor. Blood, shit, piss, and vomit met her nose. It was overpowering and enough to make her physically gag. It nearly took Maria off her feet, to the point she had to double over just to steady her head. She hadn't even made it to the ground floor, either, still stuck halfway down the stairs.

When her head finally began to clear and she was no longer dizzy, Maria proceeded. Sure enough, the first thing that her eyes landed on was a litany of body parts.

"Shit," she sighed to herself.

Thankfully, in the far back corner was a water hose and drains that led to the sewers that were scattered throughout the floor plan. Maria assumed it made cleaning up blood much easier, and she was grateful for them. Hosing down the concrete would make things move faster than before. But, first things first. She had to pick up the body.

* * *

When Maria was halfway through the process of cleaning the basement, Chow appeared with the young man she'd seen before. Maria stopped scrubbing the soapy, chemically saturated floor with the broom and waited. Chow walked right through what she'd been doing as she expected he might, shackled the young man to the twisted wheel of spikes, and then retreated upstairs once again. When he was gone, she returned to cleaning.

"You a vampire, or a human?" His low, heavy voice asked.

Maria looked up to see him leaning against a pillar, his eyes half-mast and his heart beating softly. He looked terrible, beyond the gunshot wound in his leg.

"I'm not a vampire." She replied.

"Then why you workin' for 'em?"

"I don't." She said as she used the broom's bristles to work some dried blood out of the porous concrete. "Work implies I'm being paid. I'm here because I don't have a choice."

"You make it sound like you's a slave or somethin'." He said dismissively.

"I am." Maria replied. When the last bit of blood was loose, she set the broom aside and retrieved the hose. As she did, she caught a glimpse of him eying it. It suddenly donned on her that he probably wasn't being given water. While Maria didn't like many people and any part of her heart that once did had withered, she approached him. "Here,"

He snatched the hose away and sprayed the nozzle, letting loose a torrent of water which he greedily drank. Maria stood back and let him get his fill. She hoped he wouldn't make himself sick, but she wasn't going to stop him, either. A few minutes later, panting heavily and soaked in water, he gave it back.

"Thanks," He mumbled.

"You're welcome." Maria opened the nozzle again and began to rinse off the floor.

"So, whatch you mean you's a slave?" He asked a few minutes later.

"What I said." She answered him absently. Maria just wanted to finish cleaning so she could do anything else. The longer she was forced to be around the captive, the more she knew she'd care that he was there, and there was nothing she could do about it. "I was sold to Northman to settle someone's debt."

"And you ain't never thought of escapin'?"

She heard the disbelief in his voice and understood it. It still made her a little touchy, though.

"To what point?" She asked a little meanly as she turned to face him again. "He made me drink his blood. He can find me anywhere now, and if I do run, he'll either kill me, or toss me back in that thing." She pointed to the steel box which was still pushed in the corner near the stairs, waiting for her. "I just want to do my time and get the hell out of this backwater state."

"So, which is it then? You a prisoner, or a slave?"

"Doesn't matter what name you put on it. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

He didn't speak again after that, allowing Maria to finish cleaning the floor.

When she was done, Maria piled her things back into the bucket and set it on the landing of the stairs before retrieving the trash bags with the body parts in them. As she put her shoe on the bottom step, she paused. Maria turned around to look back at the young man, who was looking at her, too.

"I'm sorry you're here." She told him with all sincerity.

"Yeah, me too." He replied. "Lafayette."

A small, little smile tugged at the corner of her lips briefly. "Maria."

He gave her a nod, and that was the end. Maria ascended the stairs again, grabbing her supplies on the way leaving Lafayette in the basement alone.

* * *

Maria returned perhaps an hour before the sun was set to rise. She didn't have a car of her own, Pam and Northman most likely didn't have one either, at least not one they offered, so it took longer than she would have liked. Thankfully, though, Northman did glamour the cab driver to do everything Maria asked and not to notice the bags she threw into the trunk, or where they were going.

After paying the cabby, Maria made her way toward the front door, but before she could reach the handle, she heard an ear-piercing scream come from the other side. Maria wondered briefly if the vampires were torturing someone inside given Fangtasia was closed and they'd have the privacy. She wanted to turn around and just leave, but part of her knew there was no point. Why bother?

She headed inside and was immediately presented with a strange scene. A very tiny woman in scrubs was digging her fingers into the back of a blonde young woman, who some dark-haired man was holding down on a leather-covered bench. She screamed and whimpered and trembled as the three massive wounds on her back were cleaned. It made Maria queasy, as did the acrid stench in the air.

Maria needed to excuse herself from the room, but since she knew none of the people standing before her, she simply walked past them and into the back. She found Northman in his office still sitting behind his desk as though the strangeness wasn't happening a few yards away.

"Yes?" he asked when he saw her.

"It's done." She replied. "Every piece, gone."

He grinned. "Good. Glad to see you can still follow orders."

"Hm," She mumbled. "Do you need me for anything else, or can I go to bed for the day?"

His gaze raked over her as it usually did when he was hungry. She'd grown accustomed to the way his demeanor changed just before he fed, so she knew what he planned without having to ask.

She waited for him to reply, to confirm her suspicions and stand, but what he did actually turned her stomach. Northman pushed himself back in his chair, away from his desk, and still wearing his smirk, patted his knee. Maria's brows furrowed in mild disgust as she looked at the Viking.

"Are you serious?" she asked plainly.

He chuckled. "You still don't like me, do you?"

"I'm confused as to why you think I would."

"You have more freedoms now than you did with Anthony, don't you?" Either he didn't bother removing the condescension from his tone, or it was simply the natural way he spoke. Maria couldn't be sure.

"I do," She nodded. "Which is great, until, for some reason, you think you have to reestablish that you're the one in charge whether it's violence, threats, _grounding_ me, or humiliating me. I'm aware of the situation. I know what's going on and why I'm here. You don't have to be a prick just for the sake of reminding me. Jesus, I wish you'd just pick a lane. Either be a dick, or decent, because you bouncing between the two is driving me insane."

Northman didn't speak for a moment. Maria wondered briefly if he was absorbing what she'd said to him, but when he finally opened his mouth, she realized how little he actually heard.

"You didn't answer my question."

She sighed in exasperation. "No. I don't like you."

He didn't seem surprised. She didn't expect him to be.

"_Mr. Northman,"_ The frail female voice caused both of them to turn toward the sound.

"Come with me." Northman said as he stood. Maria followed him out of the office and back into the club.

"Who is this?" The dark-haired vampire asked with a heavy southern drawl.

"Girl, Bill Compton. Bill, Girl." Northman replied briskly.

Bill gave Maria an uneasy nod.

"You can give her blood now." The little woman said. "Her body should accept it."

For a brief moment, Northman and Bill squabbled over who should give the blonde girl their blood. It caused Maria to roll her eyes.

"I'll be expecting payment by the end of the week." The little woman said as she walked by.

"A pleasure as always, Dr. Ludwig." Northman said.

"Fuck off!" She shouted back over her shoulder.

Maria smirked to herself, something Northman noticed. He cocked a brow, but she only shrugged.

Pam and Chow emerged a moment later. Pam's wardrobe was torn, there were leaves in her hair, and her feet were covered with mud. Together, they relayed information back to their boss before being dismissed with further instructions.

"I'm not leaving her alone." Bill told Northman.

"Longshadow kept a coffin in back. He used to feed before sleeping, so it might be messy, but you're welcomed to it." Northman replied. Bill gave him a nod of thanks before the blonde turned to Maria. "Dress her in something and keep an eye on her until Ginger gets here. When Ginger's here, I need you to reorganize the stock room. Then you can go home and get some sleep."

"Fine," She replied.

He flashed her a small smile, one that, for some reason, said to her, _see, I'm a nice guy._ She wondered if he thought he accomplished something by giving her the option to sleep when she was finished working.

Northman led Bill into the back where the coffins rested. When they were gone, Maria retrieved one of the Fantasia shirts they sold. She moved to the blonde's side and began to help the unconscious young woman into it, but something felt wrong.

Maria stopped immediately and took a step back. She eyed the unconscious blonde. She wasn't right. There was something off about the stranger, something Maria couldn't pinpoint.

She slowly approached the sleeping woman and knelt by her side. Maria leaned forward and, rather awkwardly she would admit, sniffed her. Maria immediately shot away, hissing like a feral animal while she crouched low on all fours. Phantom hackles raised on the back of her neck as she stared angrily at the woman on the bench. The smell of her sent every nerve in Maria's body on end, triggering some deep need to defend herself, and she didn't know why. It wasn't completely human, that was all she could discern, and whatever was mixed in there was something Maria definitely didn't like.

Maria remained low to the ground, ready to pounce if the need arose, but it never did. The blonde never did anything but breathe.

Apprehensively, Maria stood once again. She returned to the stranger's side and quickly dressed her in the shirt she'd initially meant to. The moment she was finished, however, she put as much distance between them as she could. Maria didn't feel even remotely safe until she was on the other side of the bar.

And there she remained, sitting in one of the chairs by a table, staring at the stranger.

* * *

By nine AM Ginger arrived, which gave Maria the chance to rearrange the stock room. The job was easy and took little more than an hour. It had gone to shit since the last time she'd organized it. For some reason, True Blood and beer were randomly thrown around the cooler portion, and the kegs had yet to be put in it. She assumed it was Ginger's doing. Maria didn't blame her, especially since the vampires had her doing just about everything, but it did annoy her. Ginger, while nice, was scatter-brained as hell.

As Maria lifted the final keg with every intention of putting it in the cooler, she heard Ginger scream. The woman had a very distinct scream.

A trickle of shock moved up her spine and as a result, Maria ran to the main portion of the club. When she burst through the door, she was immediately presented with the once-unconscious blonde holding Ginger at gunpoint. Maria was instantly defensive.

"Who the hell are you?" The blonde demanded.

Maria didn't reply. Instead, she lowered her head, and positioned herself for a fight. She already didn't like the stranger, and the fact that she was now holding a gun made Maria even more desperate for a fight.

"Take me to the basement!" The blonde said.

Maria felt the animal inside her scratching to get out, viciously trying to lunge for the blonde, and it made her react instinctively. For whatever reason, Maria opened her mouth and let loose a terrible sound. A shrieking roar, not unlike a cougar, burst from her with sudden intensity. It echoed off the walls, and enveloped them all in the horrifying sound.

Ginger screamed again in response, and the blonde with the gun cried out. Her finger flexed against the trigger. The boom was deafening.

For a moment, no one moved. Maria felt the heat of it, the unrivaled burn of the lead that had passed through her body, before the warmth of the blood followed. Ginger and the blonde stared at her with wide eyes, drawing Maria's gaze down. The singed edges of a hole burned through the top of her left breast were slowly but surely being choked out by blood. Almost the same instant, Maria felt the liquid pouring into her lung.

"Oh my god," The blonde mumbled in shock.

Maria looked up at her. The shock of what happened gradually turned to anger.

"You shot me." Maria said.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

But her apology meant nothing. Maria scowled hatefully.

"You fucking shot me!"

She lunged for the stranger with every intention of killing her. The blonde screamed. Maria was ready to wrap her hands around the woman's neck and strangle the life out of her, but she was never given the chance. Just before she would have, Bill swooped in and snatched the blonde away, while a thick arm of pure muscle caught Maria by her midsection, pinning her against an even stronger chest.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Maria yelled as she struggled against her capture.

Bill stood protectively in front of the blonde, glaring angrily at Maria with his fangs bared, but she didn't care.

"Enough!" Northman's voice was loud and powerful. Maria felt it vibrate in her back, so she knew immediately that he was the one who'd caught her. "What's going on here?"

"This bitch shot me." Maria spat.

The tension around her loosened until she was allowed to stand on her own. She shoved Northman away as though it would accomplish anything, and stepped back from everyone, though her eyes never left the blonde.

"Sookie," Bill said to her, "Is this true?"

"I… I didn't mean to." She stammered.

"Didn't mean to?" Maria was furious. "Look at this!" She pointed to her chest. "It's almost dead center. I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth!"

She leapt forward again, but as before, Northman stopped her. Like a vicious animal, she fought against him making noises similar to the roar that caused the initial shot. Bill, Ginger, and the one called Sookie all stared at her in shock, but she didn't care. She was beyond that.

"Stop it," Northman said. "Let me see."

He released her again, but Maria couldn't sit still. She was so filled with energy that she began to pace like a wild animal in a zoo. And her eyes never left Sookie, still brimming with hatred.

"Well," Northman said. "The bullet seems to have gone all the way through." She knew what he meant. She could feel the warmth of the blood on her back, too. "How are you still alive?"

The question was one everyone seemed to want to know the answer to, but Maria wasn't in the mood to explain. The truth was, she was too filled with adrenaline to bother.

"Fuck this." She snapped. "I'm going home."

And with that, she turned on her heel, spouting a number of choice words under her breath in Russian.

By the time she made it home, running the whole way, Maria was exhausted. More than once on the journey she'd coughed up the blood in her lung, but she didn't stop. Once at Northman's she immediately went into the bathroom.

The trail of blood had reached the hem of her shirt before it stopped, ruining it completely. She scowled. Maria didn't have much in the ways of a wardrobe, and the fact that a shirt was destined for the trash just made her even angrier.

She peeled off the garment and looked at her chest. The wound was still visible, but healing. She still had a circular puncture mark just above her left breast, but it looked like a week-old bullet wound -pink and enflamed, but no longer bleeding. In an hour, it'd be gone completely as though it never happened, but that didn't matter to her. Maria had been right about Sookie. From the moment she smelled her, Maria knew the blonde was trouble, that she was dangerous. The fact that Sookie shot her only confirmed it.

Fuck Sookie, and whatever she was, because she definitely wasn't human.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** I'll be real, I shouldn't be uploading this fast because this is the last "already written" chapter I have, but it's my birthday and I'm greedy for comments about the chapter, lol. What can ya do? I think this might actually be my fave chapter so far. Anyway, let me know what you guys think, and as always, enjoy!

**Chapter Seven**

Eric awoke that night alongside Bill, Pam, and Chow. Sookie was still there waiting for Bill to join her, too afraid to return to Bon Temps alone. If there really was a bull-man running around, he didn't truly blame her. It'd already left her for dead once.

He gave Bill the necessary information for the plane tickets, but cut the added price from ten thousand dollars back down to five. At first Bill protested, but when Eric pointed out that Sookie had shot his "employee" in the chest with the clear intention of killing her, Sookie conceded.

Not long after the pair left, Eric text Girl and told her to return to Fangtasia. She asked if that Sookie girl was still there. When he said she wasn't, Girl agreed to come in.

He sat on his throne, barely paying attention to the work going on around him in preparation for opening the doors. His mind was preoccupied with Girl. The time had come for her to explain exactly what she was. She'd been shot in the chest and it seemed to barely slow her down, a wound that would heavily affect any were. But not her. She went right on spitting and hissing like an animal as she struggled against him to get to Sookie.

That was another issue. He could sense how badly she wanted to maim Sookie, and probably would have if he and Bill hadn't been awakened by the gunshot. Then again, Eric wasn't entirely sure he could blame her. He'd be pissed off if someone shot him, too.

About thirty minutes after texting her to come in, Girl entered Fangtasia. Eric instantly rose to his feet. He raced for her, snatched her up by the arm, and took her into his office before she made it five feet into the building.

He shoved her into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

"What the hell?" she snapped angrily as she brushed off her shirt.

"What are you?" He asked with a stern voice. Eric slowly approached her, risen to his full, intimidating height as he did. "No more bullshit. Tell me the truth or I'll glamor it out of you."

"Fine," she said angrily. "I'm a thrope, okay?" Eric flinched as she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. Her voice dropped in volume, taking on a much calmer tone when she spoke again. "I'm a thrope."

Eric stepped back and leaned against his desk with his arms crossed as he thought. He didn't have to guess which kind. Judging by the distinctly feline sounds she'd made earlier, she was a felithrope, a cat hybrid. He might not know which breed of cat specifically, but it didn't truly matter.

Thropes were unique amongst the shifters and weres. They were in a class all their own, actually. While shifters could take the shape of any animal, and weres turned into the natural counterpart to whatever they were, thropes turned into a much bigger version. If what he'd heard was true, thropes –be they felithropes, lycanthropes, ursanthropes, or what-have-you- were truly a supernatural animal.

Take, for example, a lycanthrope versus a werewolf. Werewolves were of average size depending on the species of wolf they turned in to, and were governed by the full moon. In their human form, they had heightened senses and strength, but it was barely more than that of an actual, normal human being.

A lycanthrope, on the other hand, shifted into a much larger wolf, no matter the species. Many stood with their shoulders at four or more feet from the ground, which was a sizable animal. They also weren't dependent on the moon and could remain human no matter the phase. In human form, a lycanthrope's strength and senses surpassed even their werewolf cousins. They could heal, too. It was nowhere near as fast as vampires, but it was just yet another thing weres couldn't do.

Some stories said weres descended from thropes, and that their powers were diluted through the centuries. Other stories say that they were created by magic to specifically hunt faster monsters. There were even stories that said thropes were made specifically as pets from some ancients beings.

Whatever the truth behind the creatures was, thropes had nearly vanished. They were rare enough that, to the best of his knowledge, Eric had never come across one. Until Girl.

His gaze drifted to Girl. She was standing not far from him with her arms crossed as she paced lazily. He could see her discomfort.

"Show me."

Her head snapped up as she looked at him questioningly. "What?"

"Show me." He repeated.

"No!" She was clearly offended. "I'm not some trained monkey who's going to preform tricks."

He kept his stare firmly fixed to her as he thought. There were so many things going on in his mind, ranging from Godric, to Sookie, to Girl, and everything in between. He didn't need the added aggravation of her being something dangerous, but he knew he could use it, too. If, for whatever reason, he needed it, a thrope was a good thing to have in one's back pocket.

"Get behind the bar." He said after a lengthy silence. "You're working tonight."

She stared at him blankly. "Is that it?"

Eric let his cocky attitude shine through and smiled smugly at her. "Unless you want something else?"

She scowled immediately, which made his smile broaden. "I'll be behind the bar." She mumbled as she left the room.

When she was gone, his smirk faded immediately. Bill and Sookie would be landing in Dallas any moment. He knew he should be getting a call within the hour, but he had business to attend to in the meantime. With Girl working at Fangtasia that night, for now, one of the many things on his mind was situated.

* * *

Maria was hungry. She wanted to take a break and get something to eat, but Fangtasia was surprisingly busy for a Thursday night. She hadn't been given the chance to leave. There was no real food within the building beyond some bread and peanut butter, and Maria needed more than that to eat. She had a high metabolism and a veracious appetite.

Around one in the morning, Eric charged through the front door with what looked like murderous intent. She noticed him immediately, as well as the stern look on his face. He caught her eye as he headed toward the back room. As he passed, he curled his finger at her, silently beckoning her to follow. She was confused, but after handing off a beer to some human and retrieving the cash, she did.

She found Eric in his office. Apprehension, worry, and a lot of anger radiated off of him. He was out of sorts for the first time since she'd met him. She didn't like it. It made her uncomfortable.

"Pack a bag." He told her as she closed the door.

"For?"

"Dallas." He replied. "You're coming with me. A thrope might be useful."

"But…"

He stopped his pacing and eyed her sternly. His jaw was tight, like he was ready to spout hateful words if she misspoke. He really was wound up.

"Why take me? Wouldn't you prefer Pam, or Chow?" She asked carefully, sure to keep any tone from her question.

Some part of her, no matter how small, assumed he might react more violently than normal now that he knew what she was. There was a distinct possibility. Up until then, any time he'd laid his hands on her, it was appropriate to what he thought she could handle. He never went overboard or actually caused her real pain. Knowing she was a thrope ensured he was well aware she could handle a lot more of his tantrums.

"I need someone who can move in the daylight, which rules out Chow." He told her shortly. "And while I trust Pam infinitely more than I will _ever_ trust you, I need her here to run Fangtasia. Besides, you're expendable. She isn't."

Maria felt a surprising jolt in her chest when he so effortlessly said she was expendable. While she didn't expect to mean much, if anything, to the vampire, hearing that she meant so little actually bothered her.

"Now, go pack a bag. We'll leave in an hour."

Maria gave a small nod and left to do what he asked. She didn't know what was in Dallas, or why she was going, but it didn't stop her. She had no choice.

As she made her way down the hall towards the door that led back into the club, Pam suddenly appeared in her path. Maria's trek stopped immediately. She was put on end seeing the tall blonde smiling at her.

"I couldn't help but overhear that Eric's takin' you to deal with the Fellowship." She said with her typically smooth tone.

"The who?"

Pam let out a small chuckle at Maria's expense. With confidence Maria doubted ever wavered, Pam approached her. Within an instant, Maria felt her body relax and her mind slip. She knew what was happening, but had no power to stop it.

"Now then," Pam said, "You're going to protect him, you hear me?" Maria nodded lazily. "I don't care if he tells you to stay behind while he deals with the Fellowship himself, you sneak around in the shadows if you have to." She leaned forward, minimizing the distance between them even more. "And if by some miracle they get their hands on him, you do everything within your power to get him out. I don't care if it kills you, you protect Eric with your life. Understand?" Maria nodded again. Still beaming with a smile, Pam released the glamor and cooed, "Good. Oh, and best not mention this to him. You know how men are with their precious little egos."

The moment Maria's mind returned to her control, she glared at the woman. "Goddamn it, Pam. Seriously?" she snapped. Pam did nothing more than smile wider and shrug. Maria shook her head. "Fucking vampires."

Stepping around her, Maria was allowed to finally leave Fangtasia while Pam's words echoed in her mind. She was going to end up risking her life for an asshole like Eric Northman, and there was nothing she could do about it. Damn it!

* * *

Despite being mid-day, Eric was awake the entire trip. He was awake when they loaded his coffin onto the plane, and he was awake during the flight. He heard everything around him from Girl's heartbeat through the plane engines, to her speaking with people on his behalf. Even now, as his coffin was being taken into the hotel where it was light-tight, he could hear her walking alongside him mere feet away.

He was glad she was there, even though she didn't have a choice in the matter. He'd taken her choice away.

But her loyalty regardless of the situation surprised him. She was vigilant and precise when she spoke to everyone from the airplane's staff, to the people at the hotel. It almost made him regret the way he spoke to her at Fangtasia.

She was right when she said he was a dick, always bouncing between being benign in the way he treated her, to being outright cruel. He didn't know why he did it. Usually, it was because he needed to instill in someone that he was the person in charge, and that he should be obeyed, but Girl never gave him a reason to do so. She always did as he told her. She'd honored their bargain, albeit reluctantly, to the best of her abilities. Without major complaint, she completed every task laid before her, and still he'd poke and prod just to see the wound left behind as though it were a game to him. In many ways, perhaps it was.

He pitied her because he knew he'd never apologize for the way he acted. It wasn't in his personality to do so. What was much more likely was his continuation of treating her poorly. Even if he made a conscious effort not to be overly mean or biting in his comments, it'd happen eventually. He couldn't help it and that knowledge made him sad for her.

When the elevator dinged, Eric felt the coffin moved. He heard the wheels hum over the carpeted hall and the locks on a door click when it was opened.

"Which one's the master suite?" Girl asked the bellhop.

"That one." He replied.

"Then put it in there, near the foot of the bed, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

Eric felt himself being moved into the other room. He grinned a little that she didn't even attempt to take the master suite for herself.

A moment later, he was lifted and set on the floor. He heard the footsteps retreat, then Girl speaking to them once more before the door closed. Eric briefly considered leaving the coffin, but eventually decided against it. It was still daylight and he might as well sleep for the few hours before the sun set. There was no point to rise, especially since he knew Girl would be sleeping, too.

* * *

Eric awoke that evening and was immediately greeted by the smell of human food. It smelled like rot to him and made him scowl.

He exited his room and found Girl sitting on the couch with a plate and a room service cart just behind her. It was loaded with items for her to devour, from a few slices of freshly baked bread to veggies, and even some fruit. On her plate, however, was a sliced steak of ridiculous proportions and some mashed potatoes.

"That smells disgusting." He replied as he stepped around the opposite end of the L-shaped sofa. He took a seat furthest from her.

"So does blood." She told him. "To something like me that doesn't drink it, you have no idea how horrible it smells in the volume you people drink it. It's dizzying."

He arched a brow as he surveyed the sheer magnitude of food she'd ordered. "I can imagine." He said. "Do you really plan to eat all of that?"

Girl paused right in the middle of raising her fork to her mouth. Her eyes slowly drifted to the Viking.

"That depends." She said. "Am I going to have time to finish it?"

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Finish your meal. I have to go speak with Bill, anyway." He pushed himself to his feet. "Then when I get back, I can eat."

Eric went to his room and changed his shirt before he left the suite without a word to Girl. He thought briefly that he should learn her name, but it left him almost the instant it crossed his mind. There was little reason to bother.

* * *

Eric was annoyed more than usual when he returned to his hotel room. Bill was being petty and it was both humorous, and aggravating at the same time. While someone being so childish that they ordered a fifty-dollar TrueBlood without intending to drink it was enough to make him smirk, he was irritated that it was at his expense, and by Bill Compton's hand.

But, it didn't truly matter. Eric Northman could be petty, too, and he'd win.

When he reached his room, he noticed a bellman dragging the room service cart through the door behind him. Eric was slightly annoyed he had to wait for him to pass, but as he did, the vampire spotted something even more interesting. The plates were empty and the mass of food was gone. He arched a brow curiously at the sight. There'd been enough food for two, perhaps three people, and it was gone.

He entered the room shortly after the human and the cart had gone and saw Girl replacing cash into a wallet. He'd given her a few hundred dollars for tips and the like when she had to handle things upon their arrival, otherwise, she'd have had nothing. She glanced up at him.

"Did you truly eat all of that?" He asked.

Her eyes were wide and innocent, glittering with that unnatural green that he now recognized was entirely feline, and shrugged.

"I was hungry." She replied.

A small grin tugged briefly at his lips before vanishing almost instantly. "As am I."

He noticed a wave of agitation sweep across her entire body. It was always an entertaining thing to see. Her jaw would tense, her shoulders slump, and her eyes would struggle not to roll. It never tainted her blood completely, her annoyance with him, but he could taste it. He assumed it was something along the lines of someone placing a lemon wedge in a glass of water: it didn't affect the overall flavor of the water, but one could still tell it was there.

Eric wanted a change, for once.

"And we're going to do things a little differently this time."

Her approach faltered. Girl had only taken a couple of steps before he spoke, and the ominous words he chose to use caused her to stop her advance entirely. He noticed her shift her stance to the side, offering him her body's profile, and in turn, a much smaller target should he –for some reason- attack her. It was adorable, and instinctual, he was sure.

"Come here," He told her.

He could see her weigh her options. There was that internal battle between self-preservation and obligation that lasted only milliseconds. The latter won out in the end. It always did.

Girl closed the remaining distance between them and waited impatiently for whatever he had planned. Eric rolled his sleeve back and bit into his arm. He offered it to her.

"Drink, until I tell you to stop."

Girl flinched. He saw her jaw clench and her hands flex into balled fists. She didn't want to, but it didn't really matter.

"Why?"

"Because I told you to."

She outright scowled at his comment. As Girl remained stationary, still battling with whether or not to comply, his patience was growing thin. Eric was close to forcing her.

"Now," He growled with a deep, resonant voice.

Her eyes darted to his forearm, which was still bleeding. The crimson was bright against his pale, ivory-colored skin, and it was dangerously close to dripping onto the floor. Finally, after what seemed like far too long, Girl reached for him.

Her small, leather-clad hand wrapped around his forearm as she stepped closer. She apprehensively raised it to her lips while bringing her face down to it. She'd had his blood more than once, so her reticence annoyed him. He understood, but it wasn't as though she didn't get a high out of it, and that was the point.

Girl finally brought the bleeding wound to her lips and began to drink, albeit reluctantly. But, within a minute, he felt the shift. It never took long, which was why –when forced to drink his blood- Girl never seemed willing to do so for more than a few seconds. This time, she didn't have a choice. She would drink until he told her otherwise, and that was more than enough for the shift to happen.

Instead of lazily letting his blood fill her mouth, Girl soon began to work for it, drawing it through the bite marks he'd made. Her grip on him tightened just a bit, and her body drew nearer. The more she began to desire it, the greedier and more demanding she became.

As she drank, as Eric stood over her grinning arrogantly at how she desired any part of him, his smile was wiped instantly from his face. Teeth, sharp and pointed, pierced his arm. He bit back a growl at the feeling. She'd bitten him, and did so with teeth more dangerous than he presumed she had. But he didn't stop her. He didn't want to. He liked feeling her sweltering mouth wrapped around any part of him. He liked feeling of her draw the blood from his body. And he liked the emotional shift he sensed in her.

"That's enough." He said roughly five or more minutes after she'd begun.

Girl didn't seem immediately capable, but somehow tore herself away from him. Eric let his skin heal while she took wide steps away. Girl turned her back as she ran her fingers through her hair. She was brimming with energy, fully charged and ready for anything.

When she turned to face him again, she touched her full lips. Her delicate fingers smeared the brilliant red across them and her chin. It was a seductive enough thing to see, but it was the look in her eyes that made him smile. Her pupils had dilated, nearly choking out the bright green, and they were filled with desire: desire to act, to hunt, to fight, to fuck –all of it.

Perfect.

"My turn."

Eric sped across the room and scooped Girl up in an instant. He shoved her against the wall, pinning her in place with his strong body, and bit into her throat. He was borderline vicious when he tore into her, but the sound of pain never left her. Instead, Girl hissed through her teeth, letting in a sharp breath, and then sighed. It was the sigh he wanted to hear.

Her fingers threaded through his hair and held him close, cradling him to her. When he bit down again, or jerked his head a little while he fed, she tugged on his hair and let out another hiss and sigh. The moment was charged, filled with electric yearning and ten different versions of lust.

And he tasted every delicious bit of it. It exploded within him, more so than her already delicious blood did. Tainted by want instead of indifference or agitation, Girl's blood was sweeter and infinitely better. Perhaps morally, drugging her with his blood first just to get the affect he wanted was wrong, maybe even reprehensible, but Eric Northman wasn't much for modern morals.

Things began to stir inside him, wants and desires of his own. He was starting to lose himself in it, and Eric knew that if he didn't draw back soon, he risked killing her like he had the first night.

With a level of difficulty he'd never admit out loud, Eric finally pried his teeth from her neck, but he didn't go far. His forehead rested against the wall just beside her head, his face still half-buried in her hair. Her soft, panting breath was in his ear, and she still clung to him, her fingers tightly gripping his hair. Eric hated that he felt a little out of breath, too.

Part of him wished to remain still for longer than he actually did. He would have been content to, but Eric was unwilling to show her anything. While he doubted she'd notice a meteor striking the hotel in her current state, he didn't want to risk her seeing how dazed her blood had left him.

Before retracting his fangs entirely, Eric pierced his tongue and swept it over the wounds in her throat. He felt her shudder beneath him and heard the softest of whimpers. He grinned.

Eventually, Eric stepped away from her and let Girl stand on her own two feet. The fact that she barely managed the task and had to rely more on the wall for support than anything wasn't lost on him. He stood perhaps ten feet from her, watching her closely.

Girl's head remained down for a moment or two longer, sheets of nearly-black hair covering her face before she finally pressed her back to the wall and looked at him. Her cheeks were pink, a shade that had trickled down to her chest. She was flustered, very much so. That was a first.

No one spoke until Girl let a single, exhausted-sounding word leave her still-parted lips.

"Fuck," she mumbled as her head once again fell against the wall. She looked tired as she stared at the ceiling, something that made Eric grin, but not as much as the reply coursing through his head.

"If that's what you want." He replied.

Girl's head snapped to him. Her eyes were wide in shock and the most beautiful shade of red took her cheeks. She was still too drugged on blood to have the same mastery over herself she generally did, which meant that his comment finally garnered the reaction he'd always hoped for. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but he didn't care.

When his smile broadened and a chuckle left his lips, her eyes narrowed angrily. Girl pushed herself off the wall and stood as strongly and surely as she could.

"Asshole," She hissed under her breath before disappearing into her side of the suite. She slammed the door behind her, hard, and a moment later Eric heard the sound of running water.

His smile didn't fade as he too retired to his room. The cocky, arrogant side of him would forever cherish those few moments because he'd finally broken down some of the walls that surrounded Girl. It was a small victory, but victory nonetheless. The only thing left was to make her feel those things without his blood coursing through her system. _That_ would be the real win, to make a woman who genuinely seemed to hate him fall at his feet.

It'd be delicious.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I have no chill. lol. I guess I'll just upload whenever I have the chapters written, until I don't. Anyway, y'all are super sweet for the birthday wishes, but trust me, hearing that you liked the chapter was plenty. So, here's another. Let me know what you think, and, as always, enjoy! Oh, and PS, I highly reccomend you listening to Tili Tili Bom on youtube. Super creepy. There's a vid with a disturbing painting of a child as the thumbnail. That one has the English translation subtitles. Give it a go.

**Chapter 8**

Season 2, Ep. 5

_Never Let Go_

_He appeared behind her in an instant, his cold body pressed to hers and his breath on her neck. Maria was still, sure that even the slightest bit of movement would stir the monster. _

_Immeasurably strong hands grasped her hips. Slowly, they began to climb up her sides, disappearing beneath her shirt. They were icy, forcing her skin to prickle as they moved up._

_When they reached her chest, his steely fingers enclosed around her breasts and squeezed. Maria let out a soft whimper, her eyes fluttered shut, and her heart beat erratically. She had to chew on her bottom lip just to keep it from quivering. He pulled her against his chest as he continued to caress and massage her._

"_Say it." He told her._

"_No," Maria's voice held no power or conviction, just weak defiance._

_He grabbed her harder and jerked her back against him, forcing her to remember he was the one in charge._

"_Say it." He growled into her ear a moment before biting into her neck, racking his blunt teeth across her skin._

_Maria gasped, but put up no resistance. Instead, she complied with his demands._

"_I need you." She said. "I want you. Please."_

_The sound of tearing fabric filled the space. With quick hands and sure grip, she was stripped of everything within seconds._

_He spun her, lifted her into the air, and set her back down on his desk. Maria stared up at Eric's stormy grey eyes and felt as though she would come through her skin in the best sense. He held her thighs and stepped between her parted legs. Maria couldn't catch her breath, so excited for the prospect of what was to come._

_Eric instantly claimed her lips and kissed her viciously. Maria returned the sentiment, nipping and biting at his lips while their tongues dueled one another. She heard the sound of his belt, and then the whir of a zipper. When he drew back, he pressed his forehead to hers. Maria's breath hitched in her throat when she felt him at her entrance._

"_You're mine." He growled possessively. "I own you."_

"_Yes," she whimpered._

_Eric thrust into her and-_

Maria shot awake, breathing in a desperate gasp of air. Her heart raced uncontrollably in her chest, her ears were ringing, and her skin was flush with sweat.

It took minutes for her to calm down enough to realize what had happened. She'd just had a nightmare, one unbelievably more graphic than any she'd felt before, but lacked the fear she should have felt. Still, it was a nightmare to her, nonetheless.

"Christ," she sighed to herself.

Maria propped up her knees and rested her elbows on them. Her head dipped. She took in deliberately slow breaths, anything to regain control over herself. That had been the most graphic sex dream she'd ever had about Eric Northman, and it left more than just her forehead and chest damp.

She ran her fingers through her hair, peeling it away from her sweaty skin, and looked to the clock on her bedside table. It was barely seven o'clock that evening.

The nightmare about Northman that woke her was far from the first one she'd had that night, but it was the last straw. Maria decided at that moment that she wasn't going to try and sleep again. There was no point. She'd ingested so much of Eric's blood that the dreams were overwhelming. Sleep, peaceful sleep, just wasn't possible anymore.

She grumbled to herself as she rose from her bed and headed for the bathroom. A bath to clean her skin would be a good idea. A vampire's senses were unrivaled, and the last thing she needed was for him to smell her arousal. It wouldn't take a genius to realize the cause behind it, and Eric Northman was already an intelligent creature. She wasn't in the mood to make the already arrogant vampire even more so.

As the warm water filled the tub and the bathroom with steam, Maria added a few of the bath salts that had been provided. She couldn't say if the hotel offered spa-like treatment to everyone who rented a room, but it was a luxury in the ridiculously-sized suite she shared with Northman.

After stripping herself of her clothes, Maria slid into the bathtub. It was enormous, more than enough for the water to cover both her knees, and her boobs at the same time. When it was filled adequately, she turned off the tap with her toes, and began to relax. It was the first chance she'd had in quite some time.

The heat of the water filled the room with the scent of roses. Sure, it was mildly synthetic, but the essence of it was there, and it brought back painful memories.

As a child, Maria was catered to and spoiled. Despite being the middle of five children, she wanted for nothing, and rose baths were her favorite. Her nanny would bring in a bowl of freshly plucked rose petals and toss handfuls of them into her bathwater. It scented the air and her skin for days. A small, heavy smile curled her lips as she remembered her brother and sisters, her mother and father, and numerous staff that helped raise her.

But they were all gone, now. Maria was the only one left from her entire family name.

* * *

Eric rose just after sunset. He hadn't meant to, but there was too much to do that night. He was eager to speak with Isabel and Stan, the two left behind to watch over Godric's territory now that the vampire himself was gone.

Girl would be joining him, alongside Bill and Sookie. He felt she needed to begin earning her keep. He had to find some way to justify bringing her to Dallas with him.

When he entered the living space and found it empty, Eric crossed the suite to Girl's door. Before he could knock, he heard the faint sound of her singing, and rustling water. She was taking a bath. Without reservations, he entered her room and approached the bathroom door. Her singing was clearer than before and while his Russian was a bit rusty, he recognized that what she was singing was a lullaby called Tili Tili Bom, and it was an unsettling song.

Eric had heard the deceptively sweet melody before. It was like all nursery rhymes, though, filled with disturbing words and stories. Tili Tili Bom was no exception. Hidden within the dulcet tune was the story of a boogeyman-like character stalking a child from outside the home before making its way in, then moving upstairs to eat the child who was still awake late in the night. It was a cautionary tale to children who didn't want to go to bed. If they didn't, He would find them and snatch them away.

He stood there silently listening to the young woman in the bath, barely separated from him by a hollow wooden door. He couldn't pinpoint why he was so intrigued. It was disturbing, true, but perhaps that was why he remained. Regardless, the way the bathroom caused her words to echo and the gentle way she chose to sing them made the song so haunting that it kept him in his place.

When it finally came to an end only a few moments later, he finally knocked on the door. There was a loud jostle of water on the other side. He knew he'd frightened her and she simply overreacted.

"What?" She snapped from within.

"I have things to do tonight, and you're going to join me." He told her plainly. "We're leaving by ten."

"Fine," She grumbled.

He could sense her agitation with him, her annoyance and likely embarrassment because of what happened when they fed from each other. It caused him to chuckle to himself.

As he left her bedroom, Eric paused. Something, faint but there, crossed his nose. He did his best to sift through the scents that surrounded him. There was her lotion, the rosewater from the bathroom, the smell of the cleaners used in the suite, and…

Eric's grin returned and was downright sinister. He could smell her arousal. It had faded, true, but he could still smell it emanating from the bed.

Eric arched a brow and continued to smirk as he exited her side of the suite and returned to his. For the next few days, he was certain Girl would be too embarrassed about what happened to meet his eye for long. He hoped she'd blush and fidget, that she would show him the thousands of signs that went along with the emotion, because he would savor it all. Girl consistently did her best to remain emotionless and distant, so even the slightest break in that exterior was welcomed.

* * *

Maria stared out the window, doing her best to ignore the people in the SUV with her. Eric was driving, Bill was in the passenger's seat, and that Sookie bitch was sat beside Maria in the back. Northman never told her they'd be driving together. While she didn't truly have a choice in the matter, she wished she had known. She could have prepared herself.

"I really am sorry." Sookie said for the third time since they'd begun the drive. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

Maria rolled her head to the side and leveled her nearly fluorescent eyes on Sookie. The blond swallowed hard and shifted in her seat. When she forced herself to look away, Maria returned her stare out the window.

For the last twenty minutes, she'd been struggling to keep her breathing to a minimum because Sookie had bathed in perfume, and even if she hadn't, the scent coming from her skin curled Maria's nose. It was sweet, sickly sweet, and it stirred the animal inside her. It wasn't entirely uncommon for something to trigger the animal, to make it act out reflexively or instinctually. That was a byproduct of being a duel-natured creature. But, she never reacted to anything like she did Sookie. Whatever she was triggered a deep, _deep_ "fight or flight" reflex in Maria and, unfortunately for the blonde, Maria's only response was "fight".

As she sat there doing her best to ignore Sookie, Maria proceeded to crack her knuckles. She used her thumb to press down on her index finger, cracking the knuckle once, and then proceeding onto her middle finger, then her ring, then pinky. She repeated the process over and over again, even after her knuckles stopped popping because it gave her something to do.

"I like your gloves." Sookie said after a lengthy silence. Her southern drawl grated on Maria's nerves. "Where'd you get 'em?"

She remained silent.

"What's yer name?"

Again, Maria remained silent.

"Your friend isn't very hospitable, is she?" Bill asked Eric.

Maria arched a brow and glanced briefly to the brunette vampire. If he thought he was being discreet in the way he spoke about her, he was mistaken.

Eric turned his head lazily to Bill and said, "Your waitress shot her."

"And has apologized." Bill said with a surprisingly stern edge, all things considered.

Maria heard Eric sigh his loud agitation with the situation they both found themselves in. She had noticed he was already stressed when they left the hotel, but Bill's prompting for Maria to apologize or be kind to the woman who put a nine millimeter round through her chest was ridiculous.

When Eric spoke again, he spoke in Russian, a language Maria didn't realize he knew, or that he was aware she spoke.

"_Humor them."_ He told her. Maria looked up and met his eye in the rearview mirror.

"_No,"_ She said plainly. "_Why should I make her feel better about shooting me? If I was human, I'd be dead."_

"_Don't exaggerate. I would have healed you."_

"_It doesn't matter." _She snapped. Maria was losing her patience. She felt she was in the right not opening her arms to Sookie, but somehow, she was being scolded for it. _"They can't honestly expect me to be nice or accommodating. Why should I do anything at all?"_

"_To keep Bill from badgering me."_

"_He can suck a dead donkey's dick."_

What happened next shocked all those in the car. Eric laughed. He laughed loud and happily. It lasted for only a moment, but it happened, and it was disarming.

Maria stared at the back of his ashen-blonde head with wide eyes. She didn't like his laugh. On anyone else, it would have been a nice sound. It would have been contagious enough to make others laugh, but not on Eric Northman. On Eric Northman it was unsettling as hell.

She wasn't the only one shocked by the outburst, either. Both Sookie and Bill stared at him just as unsurely as Maria did, but he didn't bother acknowledging any of them.

The laugh effectively put an end to talking in the SUV. No one spoke again until they made it to Godric's den.

Once inside the palatial home, things devolved quickly. Stan and Isabel were at one another's throats, bickering like children because –apparently- neither of them was capable of having a rational conversation. Worse yet, Northman was amped up as well. The air inside the home was electric, filled with emotions so strong they made Maria increasingly uncomfortable.

"Idiots," Eric hissed through his teeth seconds before he charged out of the house.

Everyone watched him leave and no one moved to follow, except Maria. She was growing angrier and angrier and knew she had to intervene whether she truly wanted to or not.

When she stepped through the front door, she found Eric pacing in the driveway. He walked perhaps ten feet then would turn sharply on his heel and walk the same distance in the other direction. The sound of crunching gravel narrated each angry step. He was practically vibrating with rage.

Maria didn't hesitate to stand directly in his path. When Eric turned with every intention of keeping his pace going, he was abruptly stopped by her.

"Move," He growled through his teeth.

She arched a single brow and remained where she stood.

Eric closed the majority of the distance between them. He loomed over her, forcing Maria to look up at him through her lashes.

"I said move." He repeated in the same threatening way.

"Kneel,"

Eric flinched. His hardened exterior wavered and she noticed that it took his brain a moment or two to actually comprehend what she'd said.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Kneel," She repeated without reservation. Northman opened his mouth, ready to berate her for her comment, but she interrupted what would have been a long tirade. "I can't reach your head comfortably with you standing."

As before, his brows pulled together and he stared down at her with confusion. It was in that confused state that he, for some reason, began to comply. Slowly and stiffly Eric began to lower himself until he was on his knees in front of her. She could tell that even he didn't understand why he was complying.

On his knees, Northman's head reached Maria's chest. She was an average-heighted woman after all, and he was a Viking giant.

Maria stepped forward until she could comfortably reach out to him. She easily glided her glove-covered fingers through his hair, starting at his temples and moving to the back of his head. Eric's eyes drifted shut and a satisfied groan echoed deep in his throat. Maria wasn't entirely certain he realized he'd made the noise in the first place.

The two remained silent as Maria continued to massage his scalp, running her fingers through his hair and applying the perfect amount of pressure. She knew it was working because Eric's head dipped to the point his chin touched his chest, and he was swaying under the strength of her actions.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked after a lengthy silence. "Still feeling the effects of last night?"

Maria clenched her jaw and jerked his hair sharply. Eric's head shot back and he glared at her for the petty reaction to his comment, but she could tell he wasn't truly upset. Within the steel-grey of his eyes, she saw a flicker of a smile that never reached his lips.

Maria met his stare head-on, without the slightest hint of fear or worry over what she'd done. After another moment of silence, Eric dropped his head again, and Maria continued to massage his scalp.

"I need you calm." She finally said, answering his previous question.

"Worried about me?"

The taunting tone wasn't lost on her and caused Maria to openly roll her eyes.

"I'm worried about me." She clarified. "I don't need you getting me killed because you have the temperament of a child."

Perhaps she should have been more wary about speaking to Northman like she was, but she wasn't. She never had been. Maria just assumed that if it bothered him, he'd have done something in the previous months.

After another silent moment or two, Eric reached up and grasped Maria's wrists, stopping the massage. She felt ice shoot through her veins and her heart race, reactions she did her best to keep from her face.

The Viking gradually rose to his full height still holding her wrists, and stared down at her with an expression she couldn't immediately identify. On anyone else, it would have looked like gratitude, but with Eric Northman, she couldn't say for certain.

Her discomfort with the situation was enough that she had to snatch her hands away from him. He seemed to find it amusing, which caused her to scowl. An actual grin graced his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair and straightened it once more.

Without a word, he returned to the house with her in toe. Maria stared at the back of his head, second-guessing what she'd done for him. She wasn't lying when she told the Viking that she'd tended to him to keep his mind calm. Maria didn't want to be sucked up into the whirlwind of destruction that would most likely follow Northman should he lose his head. Unlike him, she couldn't heal instantly, she couldn't run as fast or act as fast as he did. It was less likely that she'd survive than him.

On the other hand, perhaps it wasn't the best timing. Given the night they spent feeding from one another, she was well aware that any contact between the two would hold a sexual undertone, whether it was real or otherwise.

The conversation moved along inside, though Maria paid little to no attention to them. Vampires whining about their stupid problems didn't matter to her, truthfully. She was content to remain in her own mind until she heard something that brought her almost violently to the foreground. While Eric was off to the side with Bill, she heard him mumble something that terrified her.

"_He is my Maker."_

A bolt of fear, pure and unchained, rocketed through her body. If she thought she was worried about his erratic behavior before, it was nothing compared to what she felt after that declaration. If Godric, the vampire Sheriff who'd been missing for however long was –in fact- Northman's Maker, then Maria genuinely doubted there was nothing he wouldn't do to find him.

"Fuck," She hissed to herself.

Pam's glamor suddenly made even more sense. Until that moment, she simply assumed it was because Pam was protective over her Maker. Turned out Pam knew things Maria didn't, things that would have at least prepared her for the truth.

* * *

The ride back to the hotel was in silence, as was the trip in the elevator to their floor. Maria and Northman remained silent even as they entered their suite. It wasn't until Northman nearly disappeared into his room that Maria finally made herself speak.

"Viking," She said. Maria, for some reason, refused to call him by his name. It was a level of comfort she didn't want with him. Eric paused and looked at her over his shoulder. "Is the missing vampire really your Maker?"

He shifted to face her, turning slowly and giving her a warning stare. In it, Maria had her answer. She couldn't help but shake her head and sigh. She knew in that moment that he would gladly sacrifice her and everyone else just to save his Maker.

With nothing else to say on the matter, Maria retired to her room.

The trip to Dallas was going to kill her.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** You guys are awesome and I love hearing that you're enjoying the story. Well, here's another chapter. Let me know what you think and, yet again, enjoy!

**Chapter Nine**

Maria was sitting in the living room of the suite eating when the door suddenly burst open. Eric emerged, his body tight and rigid. He stood there, stock still, while the weighted door slammed shut behind him. Maria eyed him curiously.

"I'm going to hunt." He told her with a deep growl.

Her brows pulled together. "Okay," She muttered. "Hunt me, or some homeless person on the street?"

He cocked a single brow, his silent way of telling her how stupid his question was. Maria sighed. She set her plate down on the coffee table and rose to her feet. She didn't know what happened that amped him up, yet again, but it seemed as though a head massage wasn't going to be enough.

"I'm going to fight you." She told him plainly. "And I won't make it easy."

His head dipped. Eric looked at her through his brows, a grin pulling at his lips. "Good," He cooed.

For a breath, the room was deathly still.

No sooner than Eric snapped his fangs into place, he launched himself toward her. Maria reared back and swung. Her fist slammed into the side of his face sending Eric flying across the room. He crashed into the couch before he caught himself. When he shot to his feet, he was seething, and Maria was ready.

The fight that broke out between the two was vicious. Maria did as she promised. She held nothing back. All of the anger, the rage and the litany of other emotions that she'd been forced to keep buried inside burst to the surface. This was her revenge for every time he taunted her, every time he poked and prodded, and every time he debased her. It all was finally given release and with the aid of the immeasurable amount of his blood he'd forced her to drink previously, Maria held her own against the ancient.

Broken furniture littered the space, and still he hadn't managed to pin her down. Maria was quick and agile, but as she dodged another swipe of his large hand, she brought her heel down on a piece of broken lamp. The porcelain dug into her foot and caused her to misstep. Eric seized his chance.

The Viking grabbed her by the arm and spun her. He encircled her in his arms and tore into her neck. Maria screamed. She struggled against him, fought and cursed while Eric fed. She gripped his arms and tried to wrench them away, she twisted and shifted, and did everything she could to escape, but the longer he fed, the weaker those struggles became.

Slowly but surely, Maria began go limp until Eric had to hold her up because her legs could no longer manage the task.

He fed for only another minute or two before he stopped. As he always did, he swept his tongue over the wounds, healing them in an instant. After, he scooped her up into his arms, holding the "dead" young woman in a bridal hold.

When he chuckled satisfactorily, Maria sat up. She looked at his proud smile.

"Satisfied?" She asked plainly. Every hint of the "victim" was gone.

"Very," He crooned. He let her slide from his arms and stand on her own two feet. Maria stumbled just a bit. She felt dizzy, but she managed the task quickly enough. "Here,"

Eric bit into his arm was presented her with the chance to heal, but she wasn't willing to accept.

"No thanks," She said. "I'll be fine."

Maria didn't want to drink any more of Northman's blood if she could help it, not after what happened last time. He seemed to sense it and shrugged indifferently.

"As you wish." He replied. "But, we will be doing that again."

Maria nodded and retired to her bathroom to clean off her skin. In truth, she was surprised he hadn't wanted to "hunt" before. She wouldn't mind. It gave her anger a release, which she appreciated. Hell, she'd have happily continued the fight, but it didn't seem as though Eric could keep up. That was why she stumbled when she stepped on the broken porcelain. If she hadn't, he might never have eaten.

* * *

Later that night, Eric stood with Isabel staring at The Fellowship of the Sun's compound, cast in shadow and hidden from the human patrols.

"I find it curious," Isabel said when referring to her human companion. "Like a science project. How does Bill Compton feel about your interest in Sookie?"

Eric tensed his jaw when he spoke. "I am not interested in Sookie, and even less about how Bill Compton feels about it. My only interest is finding Godric."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isabel smirk at him. "Of course."

"Don't look at me like that." He told her.

Isabel shrugged nonchalantly and let her eyes drift back to the scene ahead of them. Eric doubted the conversation was over, and was given his proof when she spoke again.

"And your little companion?" She asked. "For one who claims to have such disdain for humans, you seem to keep many of them around."

"She is not a companion." He replied shortly. "She was sold to me and needs to earn her place."

"You must trust her greatly to bring her here in search for Godric."

Eric took in a long, deep breath to show his agitation with her current prying.

"She is expendable."

He gave Isabel a warning glance and fortunately for her, she chose to heed it.

Eric continued their conversation about the Fellowship while his mind remained divided. He was annoyed with Isabel's line of questioning. To think he cared at all about Girl or Sookie was foolishly misguided. They were tools for him to get what he wanted, nothing more.

Eric felt a sudden twinge. It was a reaction he didn't appreciate when it came to thoughts of Girl. She was a tool, a thing and little else, but the reality of it tasted foul to him, and he wasn't entirely certain why.

"You should return to the nest." Eric said to the woman at his side.

"And you?"

"I'll stay here." He replied.

Isabel made another face, a smirk that Eric honestly wanted to remove forcefully, but he didn't. Instead, he let her walk away.

Eric's attention shifted back to the compound. He lingered for untold minutes until, to his surprise, he heard commotion inside the building. He heard Godric's name muttered more than once, and that was all it took for him to charge forward.

Everything happened so quickly. He found Godric, his Maker, his father, and everything in his world… and Sookie.

There were people everywhere, fanatics with stakes and silver –burning, aching, fiery silver on his skin.

* * *

After Eric disappeared, Maria stepped out of the shadows. The moment she heard him mention the Fellowship over the phone, Pam's glamor kicked in. Whether she wanted to or not, Maria followed him. Her choice had been taken from her by a giant blonde vampire in six-inch heels.

Hidden in the darkness of the night, Maria took a seat on the hill to watch the little humans patrolling the property. She was angry for being there at all. Northman was an adult, more or less, so the fact that she had to babysit him annoyed her.

Four years. She had to endure this ridiculousness for four years. Was she really supposed to be his keeper for that long?

An alarm blaring brought Maria back to the moment. She perked, shooting to her feet. It was hard for her to hear anything of import beyond that horrible sound, and it forced her to sneak closer.

She was light on her feet and more than capable of blending in with the background. She was a feline, after all.

Maria slinked through the church with ease. At the end of a hall, away from the hustle of a crowd, Maria found a door. She crept closer and trained her hearing. What she heard on the other side made her heart sink.

"I traded myself," She heard Eric say in a labored, heavy voice, "For Godric, and the girl."

"That's noble," came a voice she didn't recognize. "But she's a traitor to her race, the human race. She's just as culpable as you." And then his volume rose. "Maybe we should tie her to you so the two of you can meet the sun together?"

A bolt of fear swept through her. Maria couldn't tell if the emotion was her own or pushed onto her by Pam, but it was there regardless, alongside the urge to help. In the most dramatic fashion, Maria shoved the doors open so hard they splintered on the frame. It was a habit or hers, apparently.

Her heart sank when she saw Eric on an altar, held in place by brilliant silver chains.

"Stay right there!" A man in a white suit said. Her gaze drifted to him. She instantly hated him, from his poofy hair to the white suit draped over his body. He held a revolver to Sookie's head. "Or I'll shoot her."

"Shoot her." Maria replied as she stepped forward. "I'm here for the Viking."

"Stay back, vampire!"

"Fuck you." She told him blatantly.

Apparently, he had hit his tolerance for insolence.

He swung the gun and instantly pulled the trigger. Maria felt the bullet tear through her chest, but she refused to stop. Instead, she let loose a loud, ferocious roar that caused the room to quiver. Fear saturated the air and burned her nose. The Man in White was the worst, and cause for the majority of it. Maria should have learned not to frighten someone holding a gun.

Without warning, he fired multiple times. Maria felt each of them burn through her body. She felt the blood pour from the wounds and down her torso. Her breathing grew haggard, but she refused to fall. Either stubbornness, or Pam's glamor kept her on her feet while her body screamed at her to collapse. She wouldn't let it.

A familiar voice screamed _no_. Somewhere else she heard someone cry out for Sookie.

Attention shifted from her, which she used to her advantage.

Maria became dizzy as she forced herself to move toward the altar. Each foot fell heavily on the floor. Every time her heel hit, pain vibrated through her body, but she pressed on. The world around her darkened and her body ached.

After what felt like an eternity, Maria reached Eric's side. He stared up at her heavily as she peeled the chains away from his skin. They'd burned him so deeply that she had to tug harder than she wanted to just to get some of them free.

"You're bleeding." He said heavily.

"Getting hungry?" She shot back in the same tired voice.

A breathy laugh left his lips. "Less fun when I can lick it up off the floor."

Maria thought she managed a smirk, but she couldn't be certain. The fact was, she didn't have much energy for anything.

The moment she had the final chain removed from his body, Eric sprang to life. Maria finally let herself crumble to the floor and felt better for it. She no longer had to designate so much effort to standing.

Leaning against the altar, Maria looked down at her body. Her dark shirt was glistening. It had stuck to her skin, saturated in blood -_her_ blood. Her brows tugged together worriedly. It didn't feel like she was healing properly. It was different when Sookie had shot her. She felt the healing take place almost immediately, but not this time. Maria didn't know what was wrong, but it was clear something was.

Flashes of the past surged through her mind. Tears gathered in her eyes as she remembered the first time she'd been shot so many times.

_Her mother cried out, shielding her brother from the gunfire. _

_Her sisters cried and screamed in fear._

_Soldiers shouted drunken orders._

_Then silence fell._

At some point, Maria had slid to the floor, curling up on her side while she struggled to remain conscious. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, pitched and brilliant white. Tears gathered in her eyes only briefly before gliding down her face. She was dying, and she knew it.

As the blackness that surrounded her vision closed in, Maria was angry. She was angry that she was forced to give her life for an asshole like Eric Northman, and it wasn't even her choice. She was forced into the situation because of Pam.

The world began to fade and as she struggled with her coming fate, Maria felt her body move. Someone threaded their arms beneath her and lifted her into the air. She was gathered close to a cold, hard chest of muscle. Her body barely jostled as cool air touched her face. The one holding her was smooth on their feet, and though the dizzying smell of her own blood, she caught a familiar scent of cologne.

"I hate you." She said with a heavy, exhausted voice. It was so quiet that she barely heard herself despite her heightened senses.

Eric replied, "I know."

And then her body gave out.

* * *

Eric sat in the back of the SUV while Bill drove. Sookie was in the front seat with him, her brother Jason was in the second, and Eric and Girl were in the third row in the back. He hadn't let go of her since the church, still cradling her against his chest as they drove to Godric's nest.

He was worried about her, whether he wanted to be or not. She was no longer bleeding, but her heartbeat was low, closer to a coma patient than someone who was meant to be alive. She wasn't healing properly. Something was wrong.

A thin layer of sweat had forced some of her hair to cling to her face. Eric reached forward and brushed it out of the way. Aside from the few droplets of blood that had touched her skin and her cheeks which weren't quite as pink as they were supposed to be, Girl looked like she was sleeping. She looked peaceful, something Eric hadn't seen from her before. No matter how she tried to hide it, he'd always been able to see her inner turmoil.

While his exterior remained calm, Eric felt a surprising level of something close to panic coursing through him. He was worried about Girl, perhaps even afraid for her well-being. He wanted her to be alright, needed it really. He found her entertaining and curious. As far as he was concerned, she couldn't expire until he allowed it. If she died, it would be no different than her running away. She would still be backing out of their deal and that was wholly unacceptable.

It never donned on him that he may actually like her because "feelings" served no purpose in the end. They only complicated things.

Movement in front of him drew Eric's gaze. He looked up through his lashes and saw Jason staring at the young woman in his arms. He seemed very interested, which made Eric angry. He didn't like the look in the brother's gaze, the interest he was showing the bloody and injured woman in his arms.

"What?" His voice was low and threatening, enough so that it caused Jason looked up at him with wide eyes. Eric cocked a single brow.

"I didn't say anythin'." Jason replied as innocently as he could.

"Turn. Around."

Jason wisely complied, instantly turning around in his spot and facing forward once more. But, he didn't remain silent. Instead, he leaned forward and began to speak to his sister. Eric didn't know if Jason assumed he couldn't be heard, or what, but his "whisper" was barely that.

"Who is that chick?" He asked Sookie.

"She works for Eric." Sookie said.

"Okay," He said, sounding a little unsure of the statement. "But who is she? Like, what's her name?"

There was a brief pause before Sookie shoved Jason out of the way. Her eyes were set on Eric and he already knew what was coming.

"What _is_ her name?"

Eric didn't reply. He didn't have an answer. Even though Girl had been in his "employ" for nearly three months, he had no idea what her name was.

In his silence, Sookie seemed to realize the fact.

"Oh my God!" she snapped. "You don't even know, do you?" Again, he remained silent. "Disgusting."

Eric had a few choice words for her, but kept them to himself. He just kept staring at her until she scoffed, scowled, and turned back around in her seat.

Eric's gaze drifted back to Girl. She still wasn't recovering as quickly as he wanted her to. In fact, she hadn't changed at all. When Sookie shot her, she didn't seem to slow down in the least. After Newlin, she couldn't recover. He'd heard five shots and began to wonder if each of them had landed. Thrope or not, she was a living creature and living creatures were prone to things like death.

The fact that she might die, lingering on the brink before her body decided to simply give in, bothered Eric more than he liked. He couldn't pinpoint the reason why, but Eric was aware he didn't want her to.

Resolute in his decision, Eric produced his fangs and bit into his wrist. With a wound bleeding steadily, he parted her lips and pressed his wrist to them. His blood flowed into her mouth, but she wasn't drinking it, and that was the problem. She needed to ingest his blood for it to work.

Seconds ticked by and there was nothing. Eric's patience was thinning. He frowned. He was genuinely annoyed that she wasn't complying with his silent demands.

But, eventually, things changed. He felt her begin to suckle on the wound. Eric assumed enough of his blood had made it down her throat that it had begun to heal her, awakening Girl so that she could properly feed.

For a moment, she drank from his wrist, until, she finally drew back. She managed to open her eyes and looked around. He could see her curiosity and instant confusion with the fact that she was in his lap, curled against his chest.

Eric grinned to himself as she scurried off of him and to the seat beside him. She gave her attention to the passing scenery outside the window.

"You're welcome." He said to her after a lengthy silence between them.

She turned her head slowly in his direction and leveled an angry stare on him.

"For what?" Girl's voice was as stern as the look in her eye. "I was shot saving your dumbass in the first place."

He grinned and was sure she saw it, judging by the tint of pink in her cheeks. Then again, Eric was well aware the pink hue could have been brought on by his blood coursing through her body and the fact that she was no longer near-death. On the other hand, Eric was arrogant enough to dismiss all of that in favor of what he wanted to believe.

"_Afraid you would have to live without me?"_ he openly teased in Russian.

She replied in the same language and with a level of both sass and annoyance that Eric had grown to like and expect.

"_Don't flatter yourself."_ She said as she, once again, looked out the window. _"Pam glamored me to keep you safe. If it was up to me, I'd have let you die."_

Eric fell silent after her response. He hadn't expected it, or the reaction it created within him. He was disappointed, if not hurt by it. His pride was injured. Despite the logical side of his brain being aware that she would obviously not sacrifice herself for him, he was genuinely disappointed and surprised that she hadn't. Surely he was worth the effort to her, wasn't he? He gave her a place to live, after all, and treated her as well as a slave could be treated. Why wouldn't she willingly want to place herself in Death's way to protect him?

* * *

After the small group reached Godric's nest, those who needed it were sent off to get cleaned up. Maria was grateful for the chance to wash the blood off her body. Her clothing had been soaked through and it had dried to the point it was crusty.

Eric spoke to Isabel on Maria's "behalf" and arranged for her to have something else to wear. Maria wondered briefly why he bothered. She doubted he wanted her to meet his Maker. Maria had no delusions about her station when it came to the Viking. She was his cattle, more or less. Would you introduce your pet cow to someone you held in high regard? Then again, it was becoming common knowledge that she "belonged" to Northman. Perhaps he simply didn't want his property to be unkempt.

As she wiped the blood away, Maria's mind drifted back to the incident at the church. She was furious she put herself in that situation and absolutely terrified that she'd nearly died. And Northman was surprised by the fact that she was glamored. How could he be surprised? Surely he knew that she barely tolerated him. She was only at his side because she had no choice.

But the look on his face when she told him so…

She was baffled by his reaction when she caught sight of his reflection in the window. He looked hurt, genuinely hurt.

Shaking the confusion from her head, Maria slipped into the outfit Isabel had left behind for her. It was a simple black dress with heels to match. Maria was grateful for it. She didn't want to be wrapped up in something ridiculous, like Pam had forced her to wear previously. At least Isabel had a tasteful wardrobe.

When she returned to the party, Maria wasn't surprised to find vampires everywhere. She was in a nest, after all. She ignored the majority of them as she lazily searched for the Viking. He wouldn't be hard to find, but the floor plan to the home was twisted and convoluted, broken up by half-walls and a duel-sided fireplace. As a result, instead of using her eyes, Maria decided to listen.

Eric's smooth voice met her ears easily, and guided her feet toward him. She stepped alongside a line of people who had finished paying tribute to their Sheriff and spotted the giant knelt down in front of an incredibly young-looking vampire.

"You need to eat." Eric said. "I doubt the Fellowship had anything to offer."

"I am not hungry." Godric replied. He sounded so tired, a sentiment that Maria felt despite the distance between them. "How are you friends?" Eric didn't immediately reply. "The girl who was shot."

"Healed." Eric said before adding something that stunned Maria. "Would you like to meet her?"

Maria flinched as a wave of apprehension swept through her. Why the hell was he offering to introduce her? Did he genuinely want her to meet his Maker, or was he simply swept up in the moment?

She couldn't help but glance around the edge of the fireplace. To add to her surprise, Eric was looking at her. With a blank expression marring his already stoic face, he silently told her to join them. Unsure as to why, Maria felt herself comply.

Her feet fell tenderly against the floor as she approached. Godric's gaze languidly drifted to her. Maria stared at the baby-faced young man she knew to be the ancient. She felt something, a twinge of recognition that she knew was unfounded, but there regardless.

Her body moved as though it was in the same haze as her mind. Gradually, she found herself kneeling before him, her eyes locked to his the entire time, until she was forced to look up at him. His physical age was clear and disarming, as disarming as the power he emanated, but it was in his cherubic face that Maria felt she knew him. His pale eyes were familiar, but the type of familiarity associated with someone seen in a dream –there, but not there.

As he looked down at her, Maria noticed him twitch. The center of his brows tugged ever-so-slightly together before relaxing again just as suddenly.

"You're known to me." Godric said to her in his calm, smooth voice.

Her brows pulled together as she stared at him quizzically. "You look familiar, too. But… I've never met you."

He tilted his head marginally to the side and let his eyes glide over her body. "What is your name?"

"Maria," She surprised herself with her readiness to offer it to the stranger.

"Maria," He repeated. "You were not born here. Where are you from?"

She was surprised he noticed her lingering accent. It'd been nearly beaten out of existence by years in the states, and yet, he somehow heard it. And as before, she felt compelled to reply. There was no reason for it, she knew, but he made her. The sheer power he emanated forced her to answer any and every question he asked.

"Saint Petersburg," She said. "Russia."

Maria watched as the child-like leader slipped into his thoughts briefly. Shortly after, his eyes landed on her once more, and sparkled with untold knowledge.

"Yekaterinburg." Maria flinched. "You were a child then." A heavy, but bemused smile tugged at his lips. "And to think, the world thought it was your sister who survived all these years."

Despite his calm behavior, his cool and collected voice, Maria wasn't lulled into a sense of security. Instead, her anxiety was on the rise. She understood nothing of the situation she found herself in and it was starting to frighten her. For some reason, the wall she had spent so long building around her was breached, and she didn't know how.

"How do you know me?"

He looked over her once more, though more skeptically than before. "Hm. I suppose you wouldn't remember us."

"Us?"

A pit formed in her gut. The more Godric said to her, the less she understood.

Before he had the chance to finish explaining himself, or help her gain the slightest clarity, commotion in the other room drew attention. Godric sighed when he heard it. Maria noticed how crestfallen the vampire looked. He seemed truly disappointed with the argument happening in the other room.

He vanished before Maria could comprehend the action. She wasn't entirely surprised given Godric was, according to Isabel, older than Christ. His speed didn't shock her, but she was far from comfortable. The moment he was gone, the moment that his eyes were no longer on her, Maria felt as though she finally had control over her body again. She had to remove herself from the house.

When Maria stood and turned, she was immediately confronted with Eric. He stared down at her with confusion marring his handsome face. She quickly moved around him and all but ran from the house.

The moment she was in the small, yet incredibly well-manicured backyard, Maria breathed deep. The humid night air of Texas did nothing to help calm her. Everything tingled, vibrating with nervous energy that she had no idea how to satisfy. She wanted to fight, she wanted to run, she wanted to tear through her dress as she let the animal inside burst free –but she couldn't. They were all fighting to make it to the foreground, leaving her unable to do anything, but shake.

There was something oddly terrifying about an all-powerful creature like Godric knowing anything about her. Genuinely, what were the odds their paths had ever crossed? And she had no memory of it. She knew the city he mentioned and she had, in fact, been there, but she didn't remember him specifically. While Maria was well aware she wasn't clearheaded then, she chose to believe that he was simply mistaken.

Minutes passed and eventually, Maria was able to calm her heart enough it was no longer pounding against the inside of her ribs. With a long, deep breath that she slowly released, Maria turned around and took a single step toward the house.

The windows suddenly blew out sending shards of glass and fire everywhere. Maria was taken from her feet and landed on the ground, hard.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Super long, but I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter Ten**

Season 2, Episode 9

_I Will Rise Up_

The carnage inside was unmistakable. There were body parts and swatches of red splattered throughout the destruction. The smell of burning chemicals curled Maria's nose as she stepped tenderly through the debris. She didn't even know where to begin, but the sound of Sookie yelling guided her.

The blond was berating Eric, who couldn't look more nonchalant as he lay on the floor. From what Maria could gather, Eric had tricked her into drinking some of his blood under the guise of needing to be healed. Was she truly so stupid? There was no "dying" with a vampire. They were either goo, or healing. There was no in between.

Maria finally reached his side. Eric rolled his head lazily to her. She stared down at him disappointedly.

"I can't leave you alone for a moment, can I?" She asked him with thick derision staining every word.

Eric grinned until Bill began to berate him for tricking Sookie. Maria had to bite down on her tongue. For someone who spent so much time around vampires, Sookie should have known better. Christ, she was almost too stupid to survive.

Perhaps Maria was a bit biased, but she truly disliked the blonde waitress.

* * *

Back at the hotel, Maria had been asked (commanded) to remain in her and Eric's suite while he went to Godric. His Maker was only a room away, just around the corner and close. Perhaps that was why Maria could still feel him. His words still rang in her ears and given a moment to herself after the confusion and turmoil at Godric's nest, Maria could think of nothing else.

For minutes she did her best to move past them, but they refused to leave her. She'd never met him. She didn't know him. Why could she then remember his face? Was it one of those situations where, because he claimed they'd met, she was superimposing his face onto someone else from her past? That had to be the reason. But, if that was so, how did he know who she was? He might not have said her name outright, but he knew enough to mention her sister.

Maria didn't know when her "break" came from, or how long it took to happen, only that she finally couldn't take it any longer. Her feet carried her out of the suite and down the hall. Before her brain could catch up with the moment, she found herself knocking on Godric's door.

She was horrified at what she was doing, but didn't have the chance to take it back before the door swung open. Standing on the other side as confused as she was Eric. His brows furrowed and anger flashed in his steely grey eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her with a tight edge.

"I…" She hesitated only briefly. "I need to speak to Godric."

And she did. It wasn't a request. Maria felt she _needed_ to speak with him, if anything to clear her own mind.

Anger quickly dominated Eric's face. He opened his mouth, likely ready to release a volley of insulting commands, but he was never given the chance. From somewhere in the room came Godric's soft voice.

"Let her in, Eric." He said.

Maria saw Eric snap his jaw shut. He gave her a deep, wicked glare, and opened the door. Maria apprehensively stepped into the room. Godric was in the center of the, standing stock still with his hands tucked behind his back. He looked at her plainly, without the slightest hint of emotion.

"Yes?"

Again, she found her words lacking. It took her longer than she would care to admit to find even the slightest straight thought. Her mind was too busy swimming to give her the chance, but when she felt Eric loom behind her, she was suddenly in the moment again, and she knew she didn't want to speak in front of him.

"May I talk to you in private?" She asked. Maria had trouble meeting his eye, but she forced herself to. "Please?"

She knew Godric wasn't frightened of her. Aside from the fact that he'd have no reason to be, everyone in the room was fully aware that the ancient could dismember Maria before she had the chance to blink. She posed no threat, but his agreement still surprised her.

He gave her a gentle nod before turning his eye to his child. "Eric," The Viking immediately stepped around Maria with his long, fluid stride. "Will you excuse us?"

It may have been a question, but there was no denying the fact that Godric wasn't asking. It as a polite command, and Eric was aware. Still, he hesitated. He shot Maria a glance over his shoulder, one that was slightly warning yet mostly enraged, before he disappeared into a bedroom. He closed the door behind him, giving Maria and Godric privacy. She hoped the door was soundproofed like the ones in the suite she shared with the Viking.

"I make you uncomfortable."

Godric's voice drew her eye. It was only then that she realized he'd taken a seat, and she was the one wringing her hands together. The moment it was brought to her attention, she stopped and jammed them into her pockets as though it would solve anything.

"Yes," She told him meekly.

Godric's response was nothing more than a slight tilt of the head. She couldn't tell if he was amused that she was uncomfortable, or that he found it mildly interesting. It could have been either.

"Um," Maria approached and slipped onto the seat across from him. "You said you know me."

"I don't." He said causing her heart to drop. "I said you're known to me."

"How?"

He didn't immediately offer an answer. Instead, he looked over her briefly.

"You're very old."

"I'm a felithrope. We have long lives." She clarified. Maria had no idea why she was offering him even the slightest bit of information, but it flowed from her regardless. "I'll grow old and die, it'll just take longer."

"I've heard your kind have gifts. I've met three thropes in my life, but only one was Gifted. Are you?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Yes,"

"Is that why Eric keeps you?"

Maria felt a twinge of shame and anger. "No. That's something else."

He nodded gently as his eyes raked over her. "What is your Gift?"

Maria dropped her head immediately. Her gaze was fixed on her gloved hands. She couldn't help but wring them again, as though it would help anything at all.

"I see things," She mumbled like a child who was in the middle of being scolded for doing something wrong, "if I touch people with my hands."

"Show me."

Maria's gaze shot to him. She was terrified of his simple request, something she was sure he noticed because he tilted his head again curiously.

"No," She told him emphatically. "No, I see everything when I do that. _Everything._"

"You can't control it."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words were slow to come. "Sort of, but…"

He arched a brow. "But?"

"You're old." She explained. "If neither of us can concentrate, I'll see thousands of years and… truthfully, I don't know what that'll do to me."

An almost imperceptible smile twitched at the corner of his lips just briefly before it vanished. It sent a chill straight through Maria.

"I can keep my mind clear." He told her with a hint of that faded smile touching his words. He held out his hand. "I can show you when we met."

Maria's brows rose slowly. That had been the reason she went to him. She wanted to know, and somehow had forgotten as much since taking a seat. The offer renewed that desire and made her agree despite her reservations.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and crossed the living room. Maria sat beside him tentatively, all the while Godric's eyes were fixed to her.

"Concentrate on the memory." She told him. He gave her a soft nod.

Maria began to remove the glove on her right hand. She hadn't touched anyone for years, and for good reason. Ever since she was a child, she learned to keep her hands turned away if she wasn't wearing gloves. Never would the insides of her hands touch anyone, but now she was willingly offering.

And, for some reason, she wrapped her naked hand around his. Maria was instantly thrown into a memory that wasn't hers. It took over her body like they always did, tightened every muscle, and blinded her to the world around her.

Flashes. It was nothing but flashes through time, and little of it had to do with the moment.

_Men in Roman armor slash across the bodies of his people._

_Blood. So much blood. It follows him through the centuries._

_A wooden pyre and a dying man. They're talking to one another. Godric is in awe of him and his beauty._

_More blood and darkness._

_Suddenly, they're in a clearing. The hot blood trickles down his throat, both inside and out. The blood on his skin is cooling quickly, but the sensation easily fades. _

_He approaches a hole. Lying within are bodies, many, many bodies –more than what surrounds him. The sound of a man dying in the background fades to his ears. There's something else, something more pressing. A heartbeat, new and fading._

_His keen eyes sift easily through the scene beneath him. There are men and women, all dressed in their finest, and a handful of children. He bends down at the lip of the hole and sees the owner of the heartbeat._

_A young woman with dark hair and bloodstained clothes is buried beneath an older woman with similar features and a little boy. Her lips are parted as she struggles to breathe. Her nearly neon green eyes drift languidly to him. She is dying, but he can hear her struggle. He can hear how badly she wants to stay alive._

_Compelled by something beyond him, he reaches for her. Her arm is hanging at an odd angle, cocked to the side and forced to remain where it is by the body of another young woman. He grabs her wrist and pulls her easily from the dead pile. She struggles, but it's as weak as her heartbeat._

_He sets her on the damp grass and leans over her, examining her like a bird might a bug it's considering as a meal. Her breathing is short and quick now that the weight of her family is no longer pressing against her chest, but she can't manage anything substantial. A quick glance to her body tells him why. She's been stabbed and shot multiple times and a large gash is visible across her head. He can see the white of her skull beneath the blood and her dark hair._

_But still she remains. _

"_My family…Are… they… dead…" she asks with each gasping breath._

"_Yes," he replies._

"_Will… I… die…" _

"_Yes. Does that frighten you?"_

_She shakes her head as best she can. "Angry."_

"_Why did these soldiers kill your family? What did you do?"_

_And then she says something that causes his chest to ache with a surprising level of sadness._

"_Exist."_

_As he stares at her, a single, soft tear gently glides down the side of her face. She isn't afraid. He can smell it. She is many things, but not afraid._

_The air behind him shifts and he knows his son is finished eating. They should leave soon, but he can't look away from the green-eyed girl staring at him. _

_Before he can change his mind, he pricks his thumb on his extended fang and leans over her. He brushes the wound across her lips and she instinctively licks them._

"_Perhaps," he says. "You should continue to exist?"_

Maria is suddenly launched back into the moment. She shot away from Godric and to her feet. Her mind was racing, her heart the same, and all the while she cried. She had no control over it, but the tears fell regardless.

She had just witnessed the moment she met Godric. He'd been the one to pull her out of the pit, the one who leaned over her and spoke to her. He'd been the one who offered the single drop of blood that gave her body the ability to heal after everything that happened to her.

Turning, Maria looked at the child-like ancient. Godric was stoic and silent as he watched her. They stared at one another for a few good moments before a knock at the door brought her violently to reality once more.

"Please fetch Eric." Godric said as he rose.

Maria found herself nodding and doing as he asked while he opened the door. A blond woman and men in suits entered the suite. Maria did her best to compose herself as she opened the bedroom door. She barely managed to catch sight of Eric eying her curiously. She was too shaken to care.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what a fucking disaster this is?" Nan bellowed angrily.

The thin, cold, blond vampire glared at the grouping of people. The ones that were actually worried about her moved uncomfortably while most of them did nothing. Her guards stood behind her, watching with keen eyes, Godric and Isabel were on the couch to her right, Sookie and Bill to her left, while Eric sat on an ottoman near the door leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His "companion" stood behind him as usual.

"How could we have known this time Stan was serious?' Isabel asked angrily, defending their lack of knowledge about Stan's decision to storm the church.

"Not my problem." Nan almost laughed before looking at Godric. "It's yours."

"Don't talk to him that way." Eric growled.

"Don't talk to _me_ that way." she smiled, completely unfazed by his words.

He kept his eyes on her. Sookie had a hard time focusing. She seemed to have trouble figuring out how everyone was connected, or how the vampire politics came into play. It was her first look behind the curtain. Until she got to know Bill, Sookie genuinely didn't know that the vampire world was so filled with rules and regulations.

"Let's get to the point," Nan sighed as she turned back to the Dallas Sheriff. "How'd they manage to abduct you?"

"They would have taken one of us eventually. I offered myself."

Sookie noticed Eric's shock at the declaration.

"Why?" Nan asked skeptically.

"Why not?" Godric countered quickly.

"They wanted you to meet the sun and you were willing?" her voice dripped confusion.

Sookie glanced over to see the lost look on Eric's face. It was the first time she had seen him look so helpless. She knew he was close to Godric, but the longer she watched the Viking, the more she began to realize she had no idea the true depths of that connection.

"Why do you think?" he asked.

"I think you're insane." Nan spat indignantly. "And then I hear about a traitor?"

"Irrelevant." he snapped, clearly not willing to sell out one of his own to whatever Nan was. "Rumor. I'll take full responsibility."

"You bet you will."

No matter how civil Godric was, Nan continued to try and bait him, unrelenting with her bitchy assault.

"You cold bitch." Eric said.

No one spoke. It was safe to say that the room wholeheartedly agreed with him and his statement. And yet, despite how confrontational Nan had been up until that point, she merely cast a stare at Eric before moving along with the conversation as though he hadn't said a thing.

"Listen," Nan said tightly, ignoring his comment. "This is a national vampire disaster and nobody at the top has sympathy for any of you. Sheriff you fucked up, you're fired."

"I agree, of course." The level of decency and civility he exuded was stunning. "Isabel should take my place. She had no part in my disgrace."

"Godric, fight back." The Latin beauty at his side said. It was clear she was desperately worried about what was happening around them.

"What are you saying? She's a fucking bureaucrat." Eric snapped loudly. "You don't have to take shit from her."

Nan shot him a furious stare. "You want to lose your area, Viking?"

"Oh, you don't have that kind of power." he sneered.

"Hey, I'm on TV." she chimed with a smile. "Try me."

Sookie stared at Eric wide-eyed, wondering if he would react. For a moment, it looked like he might. His body was tight and his jaw tense, but he didn't move. Even though he looked like a coiled spring ready to pounce, he remained still. It was only then that Sookie realized why. The girl he kept at his side was closer than before with her hand on his shoulder. Sookie's brows tugged together. Surely, the girl holding him in place wasn't enough to keep him from charging the blonde bureaucrat.

"I am the one to blame." Isabel said loudly, drawing attention to her. "I should have contained Stan the second Godric went missing."

"Isabel," Godric interjected. She silenced herself, holding back tears while he turned to Nan. "I remove myself from all positions of authority."

"Works for me." she said plainly.

Sookie moved. She had something to say, and would despite Bill's attempts to keep her silent.

"Miss Flannigan, you should be thanking him." She said strongly. Nan scowled at her, an expression a fair amount of those in the room shared. "Godric saved me and humans _and_ vampires."

"That's nice." Nan replied, brushing off the comment. "Moving on,"

"No. You think this is a bad PR mess now? It could have been a hundred, a _thousand_ times worse. You should be thanking him." she repeated.

"For what?" she snapped. "For getting kidnapped? For attracting a suicide bomber? For piss poor judgment. I think not."

Eric finally lunged for her. Bill stood to stop him, Isabel too, but the girl already had a grip on the Viking and simply used his forward momentum to slide in front of him, her hands on his chest. She looked into his face but his eyes were dead set on Nan, who seemed less than worried about him.

"Eric," Godric said. "It doesn't matter."

The Viking kept his hatred aimed for the woman in the suit, but obeyed his Maker and turned to sit. Once again, his "companion" took her stance beside him, her hand now planted a bit firmer than before, while everyone else took their seats.

"Now, tell me about the bombing. I want to know every detail." Nan chimed, ignoring the outburst yet again as though it were nothing.

"A boy walked into the lair," Godric began in a still-calm and almost regal voice. "I thought he was someone's companion."

He continued to relay the story, word for word and parts of it things Sookie and Bill didn't know.

"What a fucking fiasco. You're lucky I don't send you to the Majester." Nan sighed, more annoyed than anything else. "Godric, come to my suite and fill out the forms."

Bill glanced to his side and saw Sookie staring intently at either Eric or his employee, he wasn't sure which. He felt a twinge of jealousy that it might be his Sheriff before noticing the blank expression the two held. Both Eric and the girl seemed to know something the room didn't, or at least sensed it.

It was a curious thing.

"First, I have something to say." Godric declared to those gathered. "I am sorry." he replied uncomfortably. Eric and the girl narrowed their eyes at the vampire in confusion. "I apologize for all the harm I caused, for our lost ones, human and vampire. I will make amends. I swear it."

"Relax." Nan scoffed. "It's only a few signatures."

But there was more to it than that.

Nan stood and patted his shoulder as she walked out. She and her men left the others in a tense mood. The moment they were gone and Godric stood, the others stood, too. Eric was the first to meet his Maker's eye, moving almost too close for anyone to hear what he was saying.

"No." he uttered defiantly.

"Look into my heart," Godric said calmly.

"You can't…"

"There is no other way."

"There is." Eric defended.

But Godric seemed resolute in his decision.

"On the roof." he remarked as his pale eyes danced between them. "Both of you."

And with that, Godric left.

Eric looked as though the air had been ripped from his lungs. He stood statue-still before Bill approached him.

"You and I have a score to settle." he growled.

"Not now."

"Yes, now."

Bill's fist flew and connected violently with Eric's jaw. He spit blood but did little else to affirm he'd been struck. By the time Eric turned around, Bill was held high in the air by his throat, pinned painfully against the wall. The sight was jarring, even more so when Sookie realized Girl was the one holding him, snarling and growling an animal growl from deep within her throat.

The room went silent. For a moment or two, no one was entirely certain what to do. The blonde stared at her boyfriend being held high by a woman no bigger than her. She wanted to do something, to do anything to help Bill, but she had no idea how.

"Enough." Eric said with a subdued sigh. Almost immediately, she dropped Bill, allowing the vampire to stand on his own two feet once more. "It's done. I'm a part of her now and she's safe. Now, get out of our way."

Bill stepped away and joined Sookie's side. Sookie had trouble accepting what she saw. Eric was morose and quiet –not meek, but not far from it. The girl was angry and, from the way it looked, she was defending Eric.

Without a word, they left the hotel room to, presumably, join Godric on the roof while Bill and Sookie remained.

"Are you okay?" Sookie cooed as she reached for Bill.

"I am fine." he answered.

"Why'd she do that? For Eric?"

"No." he answered quietly, holding her hands in his. "I heard her conversation with Godric at his nest. I think they may know one another."

"But you hit Eric, not her."

"I don't think it matters. I believe she and Eric know something we do not." he sighed. Sookie shook her head.

"I have to go find Godric."

He furrowed his brow. "This has nothing to do with us."

"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here." she defended. "He's in pain. He's suffering. I've got to do something."

"Don't you think we've done enough for Texas?"

Sookie gave him a sympathetic stare. He knew better than to try and stop her. She planned to make her way to the roof whether he supported her or not.

* * *

On the roof, Maria still didn't know why she'd been asked to follow Eric. As far as she was concerned, it had nothing to do with her, and yet, Godric told her to join them. For some reason, she obliged. She was still emotional after her exchange with Godric earlier. Perhaps that was why she attacked Bill? Honestly, she wasn't entirely certain.

If Eric remembered she was there, he didn't let on. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if she'd somehow faded into the background to both of them, and she was surprisingly content to let that happen.

"Two thousand years is long enough."

"I cannot allow this." Eric stated bluntly. He tried to sound strong, but Maria heard his voice waver. "It's insanity." Eric snapped after taking steadying breaths. They did little to help.

"Our existence is insanity." he replied before turning to face the two. "We don't belong here."

"But we are here!" Eric bellowed.

"It's not right." he said softly. "We're not right."

"You taught me there is no right and wrong only survival… and death."

"I told a lie, as it turns out."

The air turned tense and quiet, punctuated only by the distant sound of cars. It didn't seem as though Eric was entirely certain how to proceed, and in that hesitation, Godric turned his attention to Maria. Cold rushed down her spine the moment his eyes fell to her.

He reached into his shirt and removed a chain, on the end of which rested an ornate cross of varying shades of gold. While the body of the image appeared silver, it was clearly white gold. Yellow gold adorned the edges, the second, thin cross inlay, and the elaborate filigree that stretched between the straight lines. Even the few choice markings were tinted with the aged gold color.

It was a beautiful piece, and one Maria recognized immediately. Tears began to well in her eyes as he removed it, then offered it to her. Tentatively, and with a shaking hand, she accepted the piece of jewelry.

"It only seems fair you have this back." He told her.

Maria blinked. The tears that had gathered trickled down her cheeks. She clutched the cross to her chest and met his eye again.

"Thank you." She whispered in the most reverent voice she could manage.

"Godric," Eric's broken voice drew attention back to him. As before, Maria was content to disappear into the background. "I will keep you alive by force." he growled as he stepped closer to his Maker. It was clear to her that he was frightened, and losing his patience with the situation.

"Even if you could," Godric whispered. He sounded defeated. "Why would you be so cruel?"

Eric shook his head. Bloody tears begged to be released. His voice lost all strength when he spoke again.

"_Godric, don't do this."_ he muttered weakly in a tongue Maria understood.

"_There are centuries of faith and love between us."_

That broke the Viking. He began to cry and cry freely. The blood running down his cheeks stood out in sharp contrast to his white, porcelain skin. Maria's heart ached for him. The sheer agony she saw and heard coming from Northman pained her to see. Maria believed Godric, wholeheartedly. While they were "connected", she gleaned more than the memory that involved her, not much more, but enough to see how Godric felt about Eric.

"_Please, please."_ Eric's body seemed unable to maintain its upright position and without warning, he crumbled to his knees. _"Please, Godric."_

"_Father, brother, child."_ he muttered softly. "Let me go."

The words, however compassionately they were spoken, helped Eric solidify himself no matter how brief. Biting back his choking cries, he slowly lifted his head despite the blood still trickling down his cheeks.

"I will not let you die alone." he answered in a falsely strong voice.

"Yes, you will." the words brought new tears to the vampire's eyes. His head fell. Godric took pity on his loyal son, and lightly brushed back his hair like a loving father. Eric's head rose heavily to the ancient vampire as the sky began to turn pink and purple. The sun was dangerously close. "As your Maker, I command you."

Eric forced a weak smile. He clearly did his best to show his Maker a strong face, though they all knew how hard it was for him to do. Slowly, the Viking stood, his eyes never leaving those of his creator, his father. Godric did his best to smile bravely. It seemed a bit easier for him. He was ready to die and willing to do so.

Godric once more gave Maria his attention. "Go with him, please. I don't wish for him to see me like this."

"No." Maria couldn't keep the words back. Instead, they flowed from her lips. "One of us should remain." Her offer surprised her.

"No." Godric told her softly. "I don't wish the last memory of me to be on fire." Eric choked at the words. "Please, do me this courtesy."

She nodded, no matter how reluctantly, and took Eric's hand. Maria threaded her fingers through his. The giant's eyes remained on Godric as she walked toward the stairs. He waited until the last moment before turning with her and walking alongside the young woman.

Maria was surprised to see Sookie standing near the staircase that led to the roof.

"I'll stay here." She told them kindly. "As long as it takes."

Maria was shocked by her offer. "Thank you." She felt obligated to say.

Still holding Eric's hand, Maria led the nearly-comatose Viking back downstairs. He fell easily under her guidance.

* * *

The two sat in the living room area of their suite, silent, unmoving for a while before Eric suddenly gasped. His body went rigid and she knew what it meant. Godric was gone.

The connection between a child and their Maker was stronger than anything Maria had come across. She had to admit she'd been surprised by his love for Godric and Pam's love for him. It was something she hadn't expected. But, as fresh blood poured from the vampire's eyes at the emptiness she knew he felt now that Godric was gone, she pushed her own thoughts to the back of her mind.

Maria continued to act out of character toward the blond giant –as far as she was concerned- and reached for him. She tenderly pulled him towards her. He didn't seem to have the strength or desire to keep from falling into her arms.

Maria shifted as she fell against the cushions. She brought Eric with her. The couch was surprisingly long, a sectional that formed a large L and was easily large enough for Maria to lean against the pillows on the arm. She put her legs onto the sofa, and guided Eric between them. He fell easily into the action, adjusting himself until he cradled her body like a pillow, burying his face in her chest and soaking her shirt in blood.

She stroked his hair, tenderly running her fingers through it as comfortingly as she could. In that moment, he wasn't Eric Northman, the prick who'd taken "possession" of her a few months prior. He wasn't the man who'd taunted and teased and baited her. For that moment, he was simply a child (despite his size) mourning the death of parent. Unfortunately, she could relate to the pain.

Hours passed and it was nearing midafternoon. Eric had stopped sobbing at some point, but still hadn't moved. Neither of them had, and Maria wasn't about to tell him let her go to sleep. Clearly, he still needed something to hold on to, so he cradled her with his arms wrapped around her completely. She felt his thumb tenderly caressing her side while she continued to gently run her fingers through his hair.

"I am sorry." she finally said. Her voice was soft, nearly silent, and yet sounded loudly after hours of nothing.

He didn't reply at first. Maria had wondered if he'd simply fallen asleep, until he actually spoke.

"Thank you." was all he said.

Again silence filled the room and they were content to remain in it. At some point, Eric would shower, washing away the blood on his face and chest. Maria would do the same. They would change their clothing and pack, board their flight and return to Shreveport. They would act as though nothing had happened, as though the church hadn't taken Godric, as though they hadn't dealt with the AVL, and as though Godric didn't martyr himself by burning on the roof of their hotel. They would go back to business and forget that Eric had broken down in front of her or that he used her shoulder to cry on.

But, for now, they were going to remain still and do nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter Eleven**

Season 2, Episode 11

_Frenzy_

They left immediately. The moment the sun had set, Eric made the arrangements, and checked them out of the hotel. They didn't speak to one another as they packed, as they rode to the airport, or on the plane. In fact, they barely looked at one another. Eric was fine with the silence, and Maria seemed to be the same.

Periodically, he would steal glances of her on the jet. Each time, she was staring into nothing with her hand clasped firmly on the cross around her neck. It caused him to narrow his eyes skeptically. He still didn't understand why Godric gifted it to her, or why he insinuated it was hers to begin with. Godric had owned that piece of jewelry for decades, much longer than she'd been alive. Maria held no claim over it.

He pushed the thought from his mind at first, but each time he looked to her on their way home and found Maria holding it, or simply saw it lying against her chest, a pang of jealousy swept through him. It was childish and he was well aware of the fact, but the truth was, Eric felt the necklace should belong to him, Godric's child. Not Maria.

His emotions finally got the better of him by the time they made it to his house. Maria had gone to her room to unpack and he attempted to do the same, but found it difficult to walk past her bedroom. Instead, he lingered in the doorway watching her. Each time she leaned forward and the cross swung under its own weight, his jealousy sparked with life. Eventually, it became too much for him and he reacted. If he wasn't so worn and distraught over Godric's passing, he likely wouldn't have reacted as erratically as he had, but that wasn't the case.

Eric charged into the bedroom on his toes, making nearly no noise as he glided to her side. He wrapped his pale hand around the cross with every intention of yanking it from her neck, but Maria caught him. She held his wrist so tightly, Eric was certain he felt the tiny bones shift and crack beneath her small hand.

Maria stared up at him through her lashes. Her eyes shined with that vicious green fire once again. Even so close, Eric swore they pulsated like the element, but he wasn't going to back down.

"That doesn't belong to you." He told her in a dangerously tight voice.

"Yes, it does." She hissed through her teeth.

"It's mine." He jerked, but she refused to give him enough leeway to accomplish anything.

"It belonged to my father."

Eric saw red. Godric was _his_ father, not hers. How dare she take something that clearly belonged to Eric.

The altercation that transpired was violent and primal. Maria went after him with a blind fury that surprised Eric. This battle lacked the playful undertones that their previous fight held. Then, both of them knew it wasn't real. The fight in Dallas was simply to satiate his desire to hunt, but that was no longer the case. Maria was frantic and determined, but that didn't stop him from trying to get the necklace from her.

Maria was quick and agile. Eric would never admit that her anger gave him more trouble than he would have thought. Thankfully, his blood had left her system, otherwise he might have been unable to fight her at all, but he was still older, still stronger. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was able to snatch the necklace from her neck, snapping the chain in the process. Everything suddenly came to a halt.

Her eyes were wide, her brows furrowed, and her lips parted as she panted for breath. She looked genuinely upset.

"Give it back." She told him in a voice laced with a level of desperation that not only surprised him, but twisted his gut. He didn't like it. It was rather disgusting, really.

"This belongs to me." He told her as he held up the prize. His jaw was tight as he said, "Godric was _my_ Maker, not yours."

"It wasn't his in the first place!" She said hatefully. "That cross has been in my family for generations. It belonged to my father, so give it back!"

Her voice cracked when it hit the shrill tone, and it caused him to cringe, but her statement wasn't lost on him. Eric had been at Godric's side when he took the necklace. It was impossible that it belonged to Maria's father.

"How old are you?"

She flinched and her face twisted with confusion. He was sure that she was temporarily disarmed by the sharp divergence in the conversation.

"What?"

"How old are you?" He asked with a much sterner tone.

She shifted uncomfortably, but did her best to maintain a strong, angry glower. "What does it matter?"

Eric held the necklace up again to help make his point. "I was with Godric when he plucked this from a dead man's neck a century ago." He took a step towards her. "Who are you?"

All color fled her cheeks. Maria was suddenly shades lighter than her already fair complexion –almost sickly pale. She'd begun to tremble and her eyes welled with tears as she stared up at him.

"Oh my God," Her voice quivered like the rest of her. "You were there, too?"

She hesitated for only a breath before she launched herself at him again. Eric had been unprepared for it and was taken violently to the ground. Maria pinned him to the hardwood. Her lips were curled back revealing an impressive set of canine teeth. They were pointed and sharp, not as large as a vampire's fangs, but more so than a human's, and they could do damage. He was surprised to see them. They should have been visible with something as simple as a smile. But, it wasn't as though she smiled around him, anyway.

"You couldn't leave my family what little dignity they had, could you?" She growled so hatefully that Eric felt in within his chest. "They'd been massacred, thrown into a pit, and you still picked their bodies clean. I could have forgiven him finding it somehow through the years, but that wasn't what happened, was it? You're nothing but a disgusting fucking parasite. You and your Maker."

And with that, she snatched the necklace from his hand and raced from the house. Eric heard the front door slam shut, narrating her escape.

He was left lying on the floor staring at his ceiling as he thought over what'd just happened. Soon, his mind drifted back to the night Godric took the cross.

The coppery scent of blood filled the air. It drew the monsters, guided them easily through the blackness.

Eric and Godric stumbled across an odd scene. Men in soldiers' uniforms, drunk and shaken, were unloading bodies from the back of a small work truck. They were careless with them, grabbing any limb they could and simply pulling them out of the back of the truck. The soldiers would let them fall unceremoniously to the ground, and then proceed to drag them to a small, makeshift grave dug nearby.

Each of the bodies unloaded were littered with wounds, whether they were gunshot or stab wounds, neither vampire could say, but there was blood. The bodies swam in it.

The scent of it put both Eric and Godric on edge. It fueled their desire to feed, so they did, happily. They slaughtered the soldiers with ease and drank to their hearts' content. But, when the killing had ended, Eric still heard the sound of a faint heartbeat. He searched for the source and near the grave, he found it. Godric had been leaning over a young woman with dark hair speaking to her.

He joined his Maker's side and looked down at the creature with a supreme level of uncaring. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing more than another human. If he offered any pity for her at all it was because she hadn't died immediately along with the others. But he didn't truly care.

Godric touched the young woman's face tenderly, almost kindly. Eric heard her heart beat faster than before and wondered only briefly if Godric had given her his blood. His Maker stood and stepped back from the young woman. At some point, he remembered Godric looking over one of the bodies that had yet to be thrown into the pit. It was an older gentleman with a cross hanging from his neck. Apparently, Godric found it beautiful, and snatched it away. They left shortly after.

He could only put Maria's face to the dark-haired girl from the grave, but the truth of the matter was he hadn't clearly seen her. Blood was smeared across her skin and her hair shielded the majority of her face from view. He wouldn't have been able to separate her from any of the thousands of dark-haired women he'd seen in his lifetime, but that was far from the issue that caused him pause.

The event in question was one of historical significance. They had stumbled across the mass burial of Ivan Kharitonov, Alexei Trupp, Anna Demidova, Eugene Botkin, along with all seven members of the Russian royal family, the Romanovs.

If Maria was to be believed, she was the only surviving Romanov, not her sister Anastasia like the world had initially assumed. And, to make the situation even more unbelievable, that meant Maria was over a century old.

* * *

Season 3

Sookie stood only feet away in the sweetest spring dress. The pale blue fabric played beautifully with her sunny hair and her sapphire eyes.

Today her hair was up, twists of curls and tendrils coiled together. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him while her hands toyed with the fabric that splayed from her hips. She tilted her head to the side innocently. She was the embodiment of light and the sun, the human version of everything he wasn't.

"Why do you always look at me like that?" She asked softly.

"Like what?" Eric asked as he rose slowly to his feet.

"Like I some kinda treat, or somethin'." The soft giggle at the end of her sentence sent chills down his back.

Eric offered a crooked smirk as he descended his dais. "Because you are."

His long legs carried him the short distance until he stood over her, but as he stared down at her, he felt the air beside him shift. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow approach.

"Then what am I?" Maria asked as she slinked into view, gliding effortlessly behind Sookie until she stood just beside the blond.

Eric's gaze raked over the young woman he hadn't seen in weeks. Her eyes were fixed solely to him. Maria seemed to be the antithesis of the little waitress as she stood before him in nothing but black.

The deep, fathomless color exaggerated her fair skin and made it nearly glow in Fangtasia's dim light. Her outfit wasn't dissimilar to what she'd worn the first night she was with him: a pair of shorts nearly invisible beneath the hem of her baggy, off-the-shoulder top, and heels that made her inches taller. Her nearly-black hair was down, cascading to her waist in long waves, and when she too tilted her head to the side, it swept across her slender neck, revealing it to him completely. More than once he'd bitten into it and found himself wanting to again.

"I don't know." He replied as he met her emerald eyes.

Maria gave him a sarcastic look that told him he wasn't being completely honest. "Sure you do." She said as she stepped toward him. Maria reached out with her gloveless hand and touched his bare arm with her slender fingers. "You know exactly what I am."

She began to walk around him, letting her pointed fingernails trail along his body as she did.

"A pain in my ass," He said. Eric tried to keep his gaze to her, but she disappeared briefly behind him before –thankfully- reappearing. He had been honestly worried she'd vanish. "I know that much."

"Oh," she cooed sweetly. "That can't be all."

"Frustrating," he said. Eric kept his gaze to hers as she continued to circle him. "Aggravating. Murder-inducing."

Her eyes sparkled and her full lips curled into a wide smile as she stepped behind Sookie. "Would you rather I be like her?"

"Hey!" Sookie snapped in her meek, child-like voice. She turned her sapphire orbs back to Eric. "I'm sweet," Sookie stepped forward and gently rested her hands on his chest. She stared up at him through her lashes, "And caring."

"You are that, yes." Eric nodded.

He was drawn to her, unable to look away from the young woman in front of him until he felt Maria's sweltering touch on the back of his shoulder. She appeared in his line of sight a moment later, still circling him like a cat would its prey.

"A doormat." Maria said flatly.

"I'm not a doormat." Sookie whined in a voice that would send any man to her rescue. Eric hated that he felt compelled, as well. "You're just a bully."

"I'm a fighter." Maria brandished another sultry, intriguing smile when she looked up at him. "That's what you like, isn't it, Viking? A woman that doesn't need to be rescued."

"But I'm delicate, and soft." Sookie said softly. Her hands glided up his chest until they curled around his shoulders. "That's what you _really_ want."

Sookie pressed her body to his. She snaked her hands up the back of his head and pulled him down to her level. Eric was amazed he complied and as his eyes drifted shut, just when his lips brushed against her, he felt a hand cradle his jaw. The strength of it guided him away, forcing him to turn to his right. Maria held him and his focus.

"You don't want the waitress." She whispered tenderly. "You just want her blood."

Out of the corner of his eye, Eric saw the blonde young woman step back until she was out of sight completely. When she was gone, he gave his full, undivided attention to Maria.

He moved toward her and she met him in stride, removing all distance between them. He reached out and felt her overly-warm body beneath his hands.

"I'm the one you want." Maria whispered as her face drew nearer to his. "Isn't that right?"

His forehead gently fell against hers and his eyes drifted shut. Eric felt her lips brush over his, the heat of her breath when she spoke.

"I don't know."

"Oh," she cooed. His senses were overrun when he felt her tenderly nip his bottom lip. "That's a lie." She repeated the action and pressed her body firmly against him. Eric reached for her and held her in place. "You know you do. Say it."

"No,"

She gripped his hair and jerked it hard, forcing him to hiss and shocks of pleasure to spread through his body.

"Say it."

Eric didn't reply. Instead, he kissed her. Maria moaned softly into his lips as she returned the sentiment. Eric was immediately overrun. He pawed at her, threaded his fingers through her hair and held her close. He held her tighter than a human could withstand, but she said nothing. Instead, she met his fervor.

When they did finally break apart, Maria took his bottom lip between her teeth causing him to growl.

"Say it." She repeated in a more demanding tone.

"Yes," Eric said without hesitation. In that moment, he'd comply with any of her demands, just to kiss her again.

"You want more?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but her voice sounded wrong, wrong enough it made him pause. As Eric drew back, he opened his eyes and stared down at her unsurely.

"What?"

And when she spoke again, it wasn't Maria he heard. "You want more?"

Eric was suddenly shoved almost violently into reality. Yvetta was slithering up and down the length of the pole in panties and fishnets. Any other night, it'd have been more than enough to keep him marginally entertained, but not tonight.

"That'll be all." He told her.

With an unsure scowl, Yvetta climbed down from the platform and scampered off.

Eric remained seated on his throne. His mind was torn again, but this time with added entanglements. Sookie forcing her way into his mind wasn't entirely shocking. She'd only just stormed into Fangtasia the night before demanding to know more about werewolves. And Maria had been in his thoughts as well, ever since she'd disappeared. But, the fact that he'd been fantasizing over the pair disarmed him. He didn't fantasize about anyone.

He held an image of the two young women in his mind and couldn't help but compare them. They were vastly different, both in temperament and appearance. Sookie was a tanned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Barbie with a southern drawl, and a level of perceived innocence that wasn't entirely common in modern times. She was talkative and bubbly, but also overly pushy and swore she knew what was right. Sookie was both enticing and perhaps the most aggravating human Eric had come into contact with.

Maria, on the other hand, was something else. Dark hair with fair skin and nearly glowing eyes, she held herself with a level of confidence most people didn't. She knew when to speak and when to remain quiet so that she could observe the world around her, and was brave –whether it was a good idea or not. She was precise and lethal when it was required, but the one thing he'd always respected was Maria was honorable. She wasn't shy about her feelings towards him, but that didn't stop her from keeping her word.

Eric hadn't seen or spoken to Maria in nearly two weeks. Periodically, he'd swear he caught a whiff of her in his house, a fresh scent that stood out beyond the residual smell that had been partially engrained in his furniture since she'd taken up residence within his walls, but he never saw her. He never heard her, either. She was like a ghost.

More than once he considered hunting her down and bringing her back, but the desire never seemed high enough to make him act. No matter how far she ran, she'd never truly be rid of him. Surely, Maria had to know that, so there was little to no reason to look for her unless he absolutely wanted to.

Still, he knew she'd return of her own volition. Eric felt he could confidently say that her word meant enough that at some point she'd return to him and Fangtasia, to her duty, simply because she'd made a bargain. At least, he hoped she would.

The list of things Eric Northman would never fully admit to himself was longer than even he knew. It ranged from the mundane, to the deeply personal, but it was a long list to be sure. Maria had managed to gain a spot on it more than once, and her absence was another such addition. Since she left, he found his house disturbingly quiet and work more boring than normal. Even Yvetta barely held his attention. If Eric thought he was capable of the emotion, he might say he actually missed Maria. As it was, he was more certain that he simply noticed her absence, nothing more.

Then again, he had day dreamed about her.

Eric had many things vying for his attention, things that made him feel disturbingly human, and none of them were appreciated. It felt as though Godric's death had ripped open that part of him, forcing him to _feel_ things he otherwise would have gladly ignored. As a result, his obsession with Sookie was morphing into something else, along with his "relationship" with Maria. He appreciated none of it, and would have preferred it all vanished.

Eric suddenly shot to his feet with every intention of leaving the grounds. He needed a break, something to help clear his mind, but he was denied the chance. No sooner than his foot landed on the main floor did the door to Fangtasia open. He knew it'd been locked because they were closed, so whoever opened it was an employee. Eric felt a rush of agitation swell within him. He was ready to berate Ginger because he wasn't in the mood for her, except it wasn't the peroxide-blonde who stepped through. It was Maria.

A strange twinge of emotion bubbled inside him at the sight of her, something akin to happiness. He didn't like it, or the distant look in her eye when she met his stare. But she didn't stop. She didn't approach him, or even pause. Instead, she swept through the club and into the back without so much as a single word spoken.

With his eyes narrowed curiously, Eric followed behind her.

Maria was sitting in his office, seemingly waiting for him. Her scent hit him strongly the moment he closed the office door behind him. It was familiar and stirred a number of things inside him –multiple types of hunger.

"Where have you been?" he asked as he rounded his desk and took a seat.

Her neon eyes landed on him and remained fixed. She was sitting across from him in one of the chairs with her legs crossed, her hands resting in her lap, and the cross sitting just between her breasts. She wore it openly and proudly. He assumed it was partially as a silent "fuck you" to him given it was the main reason for her disappearance.

Maria didn't reply. Instead, she stared back at him silently.

"Then why come back?" He asked with a note of irritation he knew she'd hear.

"Because eventually you'd look for me."

He didn't react even though he was surprised to hear her answer him.

"You seem certain."

"You seem greedy."

He smirked. She wasn't wrong. He might not have known when, but at some point, Eric knew he would have hunted her down for no other reason than he felt she still owed him. At least, that's what he would tell himself.

"You hate me, don't you?"

"Yes,"

Eric flinched, but did his best to keep her from seeing it. If he was being honest with himself, Eric hadn't expected her to agree with him. Whether due to his ego or not, he thought she'd have begun to come around. Even Sookie looked at him differently after Dallas and drinking his blood. Maria was either much better at hiding her attraction to him, or she truly hated the vampire.

"Perhaps we should change that." He finally said.

"Why?" Maria remained cold and distant. "You don't need me to like you."

"You seem to forget I've saved your life, more than once."

"And nearly cost me it just as many times." She countered easily. "You don't like me, either. We had a moment in Dallas. It was nice. You were… normal, but that's not who you are."

Eric tensed his jaw, but as before, remained stoically silent. She wasn't wrong. He considered the time they spent in Dallas pleasant, too. Despite everything they'd been through, the barbs and insults shot at one another, she comforted him, and she was good at it. While he laid there with his long arms wrapped completely around her body, he felt as calm and at ease as he could given the situation. For those few hours, she was his anchor, something he greatly appreciated, but would never utter aloud. He was appreciative enough that he never made the comment that he'd rested his head on her breasts the entire time, more or less burying it within them. Surely, that was enough to show her he was grateful.

Maria continued to speak, pulling him out of his thoughts of Dallas and back into the moment.

"But I work for you, and will continue to do so for little more than three and a half years, and if I ever find Steven and kill him, it'll be six months longer, but that's the extent of our relationship. We don't have to like one another to fulfill our bargain."

She was clinical and succinct in the way she spoke. He could respect that, but he didn't like it. He didn't like that he seemed to have absolutely no sway over her. Even if she hid it well he didn't like it. Eric wanted to actually see his effect on her.

"Alright," He said with a sigh. Eric interlocked his fingers and rested his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his seat. "Then I want you to answer my questions, all of them, honestly."

He saw her hesitation, but Maria eventually nodded. "If I get to do the same with you."

It was Eric's turn to hesitate. He didn't know if he wanted to expose himself in such a way. If he agreed, it gave Maria permission to ask him any number of things. While he knew he could lie, Eric didn't know if he wanted to, and that bothered him. He was nervous that he may offer the truth. But as he sat there staring at her, he did something that surprised himself, and agreed. He gave Maria an acquiescing nod, and she returned the action.

"Who are you, really?" He asked.

"Maria Romanova." She told him plainly.

"How is that possible?"

Her brows furrowed slightly. "I don't understand."

"How are you still alive?" He didn't bother hiding his mocking tone. "Weres and shifters still live a normal lifespan. If you're really a Romanov, you're over a hundred years old."

"I'm not a shifter or a were." She said with the same level of sarcasm. "Thropes have a longer life."

"You're immortal."

"No," She said with a grimace. "Of course not. Nothing is. Thropes just age slowly."

"How long will you live?"

"I don't know."

Eric arched a skeptical brow. He knew she had to be lying. Her lifespan had to be something she was aware of. Maria noticed his disbelief.

"I don't." She asserted. "It's genetic, but it doesn't happen with every birth. Thropes are rare, even in a family. My father and I were the first in generations and, honestly, my family had a habit of being assassinated. It's a little hard to pinpoint longevity like that."

"Hm," he muttered.

"My turn." Maria said. A small wave of apprehension trickled down Eric's spine, but he remained stoic. "Why do you keep me around?"

He grinned briefly. As far as questions went, it was fairly tame. "I find you interesting."

"I'm not interesting."

"I think you are."

"You need to get out more."

His smile widened just a bit at her response. Maybe he did miss her after all. "And, you're delicious."

Eric mused to himself when he noticed that she seemed to accept his second answer more than the first. He did find her interesting, though. That was why he kept her out of the box she'd arrived in. If it were just for blood, she'd be locked and chained up somewhere, but she wasn't. That right there should have proved to her that he was being honest.

"Is there anything else?" He asked after a moment or two of silence.

"No," Maria replied as she shook her head.

Eric cocked a single brow curiously. "You don't want to know _anything _else?"

"Nothing else is important."

He nodded to himself. In many ways, she wasn't wrong. But he was still surprised she didn't want to know anything personal. Most would have taken the chance to probe as deeply as possible, but she didn't.

Eric thought she missed an opportunity. That wasn't to say he'd necessarily answer, but she could ask.

"Anything else you want to ask me?"

He weighed his options briefly and decided rather quickly that he simply didn't want to know more about Maria. He felt he knew what was important. Anything else he could Google.

Eric shook his head and spoke, "See if Pam has something for you to do."

Maria nodded. She pushed herself up and approached the door to the office, but paused. Eric narrowed his eyes curiously.

"I do want something, though." Maria said as she turned partially to face him. "I want to move out."

Eric's brows twitched together as he fought the scowl that wanted to form. He didn't like her request, at all. It actually made him angry, which surprised him. He wasn't annoyed or even slightly agitated. He was genuinely and truly angry.

"No,"

Maria frowned. "Why?"

"Because I want to keep an eye on you."

Her frown took on an aspect of disbelief. "You already _do_." She snapped. "I'll buy some shitty little house nearby or something, give you the keys and address, but let me live on my own."

"No,"

He could see her frustration beginning to bubble within and her brief struggle over whether or not she wanted to let it out. Recent events and the overly familiar way they dealt with one another meant Maria was just as likely to viciously spout her rage as she was to keep it bottled within.

Or leave again.

A strange jolt of fear gripped his chest briefly at the concept. He didn't want her to disappear a second time, to the point he earnestly considered threatening her with the box again. It'd been a long while since he'd had to.

Maria ground her teeth, breathed heavily through her nose, and clenched her glove-covered hands repeatedly, but after a moment, she let loose a long, slow sigh. When she turned her gaze back to him, she'd calmed as much as he assumed she was capable at the moment.

Without a word, she left his office to see what Pam had for her to do. Eric lingered.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think, and again, enjoy!

**Chapter 12**

There was little for Maria to do. The staff was full that night. Evidently, they'd compensated since her disappearance and since no one knew when she would return, they kept the schedules. There wasn't even busy-work for her to do, and as much as Pam loved forcing Maria to do the mundane, even the blonde was annoyed with her lingering about. She sent Maria back to Eric's.

When she reached the little ranch-style home, Maria let herself in like she had a thousand times before, and went to her bedroom. Sitting on the bed were two shopping bags filled with clothes. Maria's already small wardrobe had diminished even more since she had taken her place at Northman's side. Between his blood, her blood, and the blood of those she'd killed, there was almost nothing left. That didn't even include items that had been torn and ripped.

As she unpacked the dark shirts, jeans, and underwear she'd purchased in her absence, Maria reminisced about her time away from the vampires. She hadn't gone far, but New Orleans was still a few hours away. It'd been years since she was back, so Maria wasn't surprised to find her life had been dismantled in her absence. Her things had been auctioned off when her apartment was reclaimed for unpaid rent, and her vehicle was long-gone. It was as though she hadn't existed in the first place.

It made her grateful she never kept anything important to her in places as unstable as a residence.

But it was nice to return to the city. Maria was able to sleep and wake when she wanted to. She was able to walk in the sun and eat whatever she could. She was allowed to exist without the Viking shadow, and it was more freeing than she realized.

At first.

After a few days, Maria didn't know what to do with herself. She had, more or less, been plucked out of her own life, isolated, and then forced to reacclimate. It would have been fine ordinarily, but she wasn't even starting on page one. She couldn't build a life again because she knew that at some point, Northman would look for her. The young woman was under no delusions as to why, either. He was greedy and viewed her as property, so he would, naturally, seek to reclaim it at some point.

The fact that she would have to walk away from anything she made for herself at the drop of a hat made it difficult to know what to do. Eventually, she simply decided to treat it like Spring Break. It was fun for a while, too, but she remembered what brought her crawling back to Northman. It wasn't because she feared she was days away from him looking for her. In truth, Maria thought she could probably get a month or more out of running away before he bothered to search. She returned to Eric Northman because she was afraid of something else.

That night, she was on the street soaking in the revelry with a drink in her hand and a smile on her lips. She was surrounded by people who were laughing, singing, and dancing to the music. It was a pleasant change to be around people and not vampires. But then a scent swept across her nose, a familiar scent she hadn't smelled since she was a teenager back in Russia.

Fear, pure and powerful coursed through her body as every muscle went rigid. She didn't know if Eric ever sensed it, but that fear sent her running back to him with her tail between her legs. Of everything in her little world, she knew that she was safest with Northman. It was an odd statement, even to Maria, but it was the truth.

So she left New Orleans and returned to the safety of Fangtasia barely two weeks after making a spectacular exit.

Despite what she said before, Maria didn't actually hate Northman. The truth was, she didn't use the word lightly. She reserved her hatred for men who'd done much worse to her than the vampire ever had, but she didn't exactly like him, either. He was an ass. Yet, she ran to him because he was the safest option.

After plucking the tags from the simple garments she'd purchased, Maria put them away. She prepared herself for bed and the chance to slip back into as normal a life as something like her could hope for.

* * *

One thing Maria didn't miss about working in Fangtasia was the dress code. She had never been a fan of tight or revealing, even less so when it came to fishnet stockings, but thankfully she didn't seem to be expected to fully comply. Still, it wasn't uncommon for her to be decked out in leather, like she was that night. Whatever sadist created leather pants should have been shot, as far as she was concerned. For a creature of movement, they were terrible. But, Maria had found that if she wore them and a nice pair of heels, she could at least wear a loose-fitting tee with them. She assumed it was Northman's version of a compromise.

As she made her way through the back hallways toward the club after throwing away some boxes, Maria was suddenly confronted with Pam. Even though she could see a vampire's movements much better than any human, Maria was still surprised by it and caught off guard.

"You need to get out of here." Pam told her in a serious voice.

"What's happening?"

In the background, Maria could hear breaking glass and people scrambling to flee.

"Call Eric," Pam said, drawing Maria's attention back to her. "Tell him we're bein' raided by the Magister and to keep his ass away from here."

"What are they-"

"Oh, Miss De Beaufort!" A voice sang in the distance.

For the first time since meeting her, Maria saw genuine fear cross the blonde's face. She suddenly shoved Maria, hissing at her to leave. Unable to do much else, Maria complied and ran from the back of Fangtasia as quickly as she could, which was very.

Outside, she caught glimpses of black SUVs and vans parked in the parking lot. All civilian vehicles looked like they were gone, which didn't entirely surprise her. Vampires tended to push the customers out when they showed up for anything official. Honestly, Maria was surprised Fangtasia remained in business as well as it did.

She reached for her phone and dialed Eric's number immediately. After a healthy amount of rings which only served to raise her anxiety, he answered.

"Yes?" He asked with a lazy sigh.

"You're being raided."

He sighed again and switched tongue, using his Old Swedish versus English. It only told Maria that he was around someone else.

"_Have Pam call the American Vampire League. They'll call the lawyers. I'm busy."_

"It's the Magister." Maria replied. "Pam wants you to stay away."

"_Stay close, but don't let them see you."_ His voice was tight when he spoke again. "_I'm on my way."_

"No, don-" But her phone lit up, signaling the end of the call. She glared at her cell phone, but wasn't entirely surprised he hung up on her.

Maria did as she was told and hung in the background, hidden in shadow where she could still spy on the front of the club, but wouldn't be seen. She could hear what was happening inside, hear the broken furniture and the broken glass. She could hear everything, including a loud, ear-piercing scream that she somehow knew belonged to Pam.

* * *

Maria sat in the tree line across the street watching Fangtasia. She had no idea when Eric appeared, but she heard him inside talking to the Majester. If he tried to hide his fear, it didn't work.

He appeared in the front door a moment after a deal had been struck. His eyes scanned her surroundings.

"Where are you?" He asked in his normal speaking voice.

Maria stood and stepped into his line of sight. He was instantly at her side.

"What did you hear while you were out here?"

"Nothing," She replied. "Just Pam screaming."

He clenched his jaw and tried to appear calm, but the wildness didn't leave his eyes. He seemed to be struggling to form an idea.

"I have to speak with the King of Mississippi." He finally said as he continued to look around, as though more vampires would emerge from somewhere. "Bill's been taken by the Jackson pack, so he will be my best chance at finding Compton."

Maria kept her mouth shut as he spouted his plans to her. She wondered if he realized he was doing it. Given recent events, it was possible he didn't, and was instead simply speaking aloud.

His eyes suddenly found laser focus on her. "You'll accompany me."

Her brows rose. "To Mississippi."

"Yes," He replied shortly. "You can begin searching while I deal with the king."

"Okay, but-"

"We need to leave immediately."

Eric never gave her the chance to speak before he lifted Maria into his arms and launched himself into the air. Maria, understandably, let out a loud shriek. She grasped at him, digging her fingers into his body and holding on for dear life.

"You can fly." She stammered in shock. "You can fly, you can fly, you can fly."

The words fell from her lips almost too fast to hear, but he clearly heard her.

"Yes, I can." He replied far too casually for her liking. "Now will you please stop saying it."

Maria wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face there, shielding it from the wind. She'd been in planes more than once, but this was entirely different, and it terrified her.

"Vampires shouldn't be able to _fucking_ fly." She hissed angrily into his skin.

Eric chuckled, but said nothing else.

They made the rest of the journey in silence, all the while she clung to him as though her life depended on it, because it did.

* * *

Eric landed on the outskirts of the King's property. His mind still raced with plans and scenarios. He didn't want to go in blind, but wasn't entirely certain how to proceed given he'd brought Maria with him. It was a shortsighted decision that he was paying for. Initially, he'd planned to send her out looking for Bill while he spoke to Edgington. That plan suffered, however, when he considered the consequences of her being caught. It wouldn't look great to be asking permission to hunt in the King's territory while the hunt was already happening.

Maria was quivering in his arms as he let her slide out of his grasp. One glance to her face told him the reason. She'd grown pale during their flight. Her nerves were frazzled, if not entirely fried. He wasn't surprised. Flying like that could be jarring to those unaccustomed, and he doubted the thrope had ever partaken.

"As a princess, you had servants, yes?" He finally asked her as a new idea formed.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good. Then you know how to act like one."

Eric flashed her a smile when she scowled at him, but she didn't speak. His smile broadened just a bit.

With a jerk of his head, he silently told her to follow, which she did. It didn't surprise him that the two of them were immediately set upon by guards the instant their feet touched Russell Edgington's property.

They were led through the front door to the palatial mansion and presented to a dusky young man. He was well dressed, sporting an outfit that easily cost thousands of dollars and was tailored perfectly to his frame. His deep, fathomless black hair was brushed back, his square jaw was cleanly shaven, and his surprisingly light eyes sparkled when they landed on Eric.

"Hello," He cooed at the sight of the Viking. "And who are you?"

"Eric Northman, Sheriff, Louisiana Area Five." Eric said with practiced ease, sporting a smile that would easily charm anyone. "I've come to see the king."

"Talbot," He said as he approached. "Royal consort. Permit me to facilitate." Still beaming, he glanced over his shoulder and called out for the king, before turning an annoyed eye to his men. "Let them go, you idiots."

Eric smirked and offered Talbot a nod of thanks. The dark-haired vampire's eyes drifted to Maria. The instantly lost most, if not all, of their luster.

"And this is?" He asked disapprovingly.

"My servant." Eric was quick to reply. "But, she doesn't speak English, I'm afraid. Quite dim with languages."

"Of course," Talbot said with a sigh as he placed his hand on his chest. He continued to look over her briefly, but soon lost interest. "What does it speak?"

"It's Russian." Eric replied.

The sound of footsteps drew Talbot's attention, giving Eric a chance to glance quickly at Maria. She gave him the most wicked glare. He swore that for those few seconds her eyes ignited once more with that internal fire. He found he missed it. While he'd made her angry many times since she'd joined him, it was only when the fire touched her eyes that he genuinely enjoyed it.

"Mr. Northman," Russell chimed with a small smile as he entered the foyer. "Pleasure to meet you finally."

"Your Majesty." He bowed his head and was surprised, but glad to see out of the corner of his eye that Maria did the same.

"Come," Russell motioned to a distant room. "Let's talk."

He led the way while Talbot, Eric, and Maria followed. Before they entered the room, Eric told Maria to stand near the door, muttering the phrase in Russian to keep the rouse going. He liked to see her keep her eyes diverted and nod compliantly when she did.

Eric spouted his lie as convincingly as he could. With anyone else, he knew he would have been successful. He'd spent the better part of his life, both human and vampire, sharpening his tongue. What he failed to take into consideration, however, was that Bill would be within the King's home. It made no sense given he was taken by werewolves, and it caused Eric to backpedal.

But, something delicious did come from it.

"So, you're here of your own accord. Does that mean…?"

"Sookie is no longer mine." Bill reluctantly replied.

Eric felt his lips curl into a smile. He didn't know why he was so happy at that moment, only that he was. He had no immediate plans for the waitress, but no longer having to contend with her ever-present shadow would make whatever he chose to do with her infinitely easier.

"Interesting." He grinned.

When he turned his attention once again to Edgington, for the first time in a long while, Eric elected to tell the truth. He was surprised to see the King so angry at the mention of the Magister, but relieved when Russell seemed willing to help.

"Sleep here." He said.

"You're too kind, You Majesty." Eric replied.

"Let me show you to a room." Talbot smiled. Eric could tell quickly that he had the man's permanent attention. It would be helpful if he could get the same from the king, but at the moment, the consort would do.

"I'd be delighted." Eric told him flirtatiously.

Talbot rose and Eric joined him. When they left the dining room, Eric snapped and pointed at his side, silently calling Maria and commanding her to follow. He knew he'd pay for the way he was treating her later, but he planned to enjoy it for as long as possible. It was a game to him. He craved it, really. Eric needed to feel some sort of emotion from her, needed to have _any_ affect. If she refused to succumb to his charms, then anger would have to suffice.

"Does your pet require a room of its own?" Talbot asked as they climbed the grand staircase.

"No," Eric said. "If there's no work for her to do during the day, she sleeps at the foot of my bed."

He didn't know where the lie had come from, or why it flowed so easily from his mouth, but it left a strange taste behind. He didn't like it.

"Ah," Talbot peered over his shoulder and scowled at Maria. "So, you keep werewolves as toys, too."

"Too?"

"Russell has been keeping them for pets for," He took in a breath and let it out as a long sigh as he contemplated something. "Centuries."

"Hm," Eric mumbled in response.

Down winding halls and to the left, Talbot led him. Eventually, they came to a pair of doors that Talbot opened with a flourished motion. He happily told Eric about the ancient furnishings, boasting about their age and where they'd originated. Eric did as he was expected and swooned over it all until he and Maria were alone.

The instant the doors were shut, Eric felt Maria's hand smash against the side of his face. The harsh slap snapped his head to the side. His cheek genuinely burned from the contact, but he couldn't fight the smile it caused.

Eric chuckled as he looked back at the seething young woman.

"So, does this mean you _won't_ be sleeping at the foot of my bed?" He asked sarcastically.

"You're an asshole." She grumbled.

"I'm well aware." Eric replied. He looked over the Queen-sized bed. It wasn't huge, nor really long enough to accommodate his length, but it would serve its purpose. "We can share the bed. Assuming you can keep your hands to yourself."

Eric delighted in the internal struggle he saw Maria go through. She fought with the urge to hit him again, and eventually decided to simply move past the moment.

"Anyway," she said under her breath. Maria approached the armoir against the far wall. "Do you think they keep-"

Her question was answered the moment she opened the aged oak doors. Inside, shirts hung across a rung, while slacks were carefully and neatly folded, placed within the open cubicles to the side. Eric arched a brow.

"Clearly, they like to be prepared for their guests." He said.

"Male guests." Maria said. She thumbed through the shirts and showed that they were all for those of a masculine persuasion, which meant she would be stuck in her work clothes for a bit longer. Eric, on the other hand, saw a pale blue sweater he quite liked.

"If you'd like," Eric removed his jacket and tossed it lazily over the nearest chair. "You can wear this to sleep in."

He peeled off his burgundy tee and offered it to the young woman who's attention was no longer on his face. Eric smirked to himself as Maria looked over his bare torso. To the best of his knowledge, she'd only ever seen him shirtless once before, and her reaction to it then was very similar to what was happening now.

The Viking said nothing as he lowered his arm and stood before her. It may have only lasted for a moment, but that moment was filled with a dozen different things. He saw the way her eyes darkened, how her cheeks grew a touch pinker than before. He heard the sound of her heartbeat increasing, and noticed how her gaze dragged over the lines of his muscles.

Her reactions to his body were multiplied from the first instance, swayed by the things that had transpired through their months together.

"See something you like?"

His words brought her almost violently out of her thoughts. A flash of crimson, quick but there, spread across her cheeks as she scowled at him. Eric grinned once more and offered her the shirt again. Maria snatched it away and turned her back to him to change. There was nowhere else. Their suite didn't have a bathroom.

Eric didn't bother turning his back to her. Instead, he spied. It was a bit perverse, but he knew she had to expect it, and who was he to deny her expectations?

In truth, there was little to see. While she exposed an incredible amount of flesh, Maria was sure to keep herself decent. She kept her back presented and her underwear on as she stripped. What he could see, however, was rather nice, from the tone of her muscles to the curve of her waist, and the bright pink scar-

A cold chill crept down Eric's back as he noticed something he should have seen immediately. It stood out in stark contrast to the rest of her fair skin. A scar, roughly six inches long and angry in appearance, stretched vertically down her spine.

It was wrong. Somehow, Eric knew it didn't occur naturally. Someone did it to her and they had a vicious intent when they did.

Eric struggled briefly with the idea of whether or not to remark on it when he decided to simply let it go. The moment the shirt he'd given her to wear fell over the mark, Eric chose never to mention it.

Maria continued to ignore him as she removed her bra through her sleeves, a trick Eric still didn't understand, and tossed it with the rest of her clothing. Her back remained to him while she braided her long hair. When she reached the end of it, he noticed her snap off a long, thin, golden tassel from a window dressing without a care. After tying her hair with it, she crawled into bed, and continued to ignore him.

Eric smirked to himself. He couldn't think of anything else to do, really. Her anger amused him because she couldn't fully express it. The frustration was what caused him to smile, but he was aware the slap helped. That's why he hadn't minded it. Whatever she needed to release the growing tension was fine with him, so long as it happened without an audience. Although, things were going to get much worse, he knew. Eric was going to have to be borderline cruel to her while they were under Russell's roof. At the very least he was going to be rude, dismissive, and more insulting than he'd ever been. Eric would have to make it up to her when they got back to Shreveport. Flowers? That was something humans liked, for some reason. But it didn't seem right.

He'd let her cook in the house! That was it. Eric would let her cook in the house. It'd be only one meal a day to start with, but letting her cook food in his house would do the trick, especially since it'd caused such a problem before.

As he laid in bed alongside her, Eric wondered if Maria had noticed the refrigerator he bought her and put in the garage while she was gone?


	13. Chapter 13

**AN:** Here's another one. I hope you guys like it and I'm so happy you're enjoying the story so far! It makes me smile. :) So, enjoy!

**Chapter 13**

_He appeared from the shadows, emerging from the blackness like a spectral villain. Maria tried to keep distance between them, but could manage nothing more than a single step at a time. She wanted to run, to flee as fast as possible, but she couldn't. _

_He loomed over her, staring down at her with those cold, empty eyes. Maria's heart raced as a result. It slammed against the inside of her ribs, banging loudly in her ears. _

"_Maria," His voice glided easily to her ears and it made her have to fight the urge to vomit. The bile was rising in her throat. "I have missed you, my love."_

_Tears sprang from her eyes. She'd begun to shake uncontrollably._

_He reached forward with his long, slender arms. His boney fingers curled as the neared her face. Maria tired once again to run, but she couldn't move. Every muscle in her body had been petrified. She couldn't even lean away from him, completely immobile and forced to endure whatever was coming._

_Maria slammed her eyes shut as he dragged the back of his curled fingers down her cheeks. She whimpered. It was the only thing her terror would allow. She felt him close the distance between them. The scent of his cologne and musk filled her nostrils. She gagged on the scent._

"_My sweet child."_

_Maria shook violently, yet her body was so rigid that her muscles ached._

_He leaned so close that she felt his breath on her cheek when he spoke again._

"_I will find you, child." He whispered. "I will always find you. I own you. I've marked you. You're mine."_

_Maria opened her mouth to scream._

Her eyes suddenly shot open in an instant. The world around her spun and she couldn't breathe. Something was wrapped tightly around her body, and something else had clamped down on her mouth.

A soft, kind voice whispered in her ear. "Shh," Cold breath rolled across her neck. "You're safe." Her breathing began to calm and her shaking slowed. "You're safe."

It was then that her vision cleared and Maria was forced to remember the room she found herself in. She was in Russell Edgington's mansion, in a bed with Eric Northman, who was currently wrapped around her.

She was lying on her side staring at a patch of garish wallpaper. Eric's arms -strong, sold, and as cold as ice- encircled her completely. His massive hand covered her entire mouth and half of her face.

As her breathing returned to normal and she finally stopped shaking completely, he gradually removed his hand. The moment it was gone, she did her best to draw in more air through parted lips.

Lying there, Maria was smart enough to know what must have happened. She'd had another nightmare and to keep her from thrashing or screaming in her sleep, he engulfed her. Maria was genuinely grateful.

To her surprise, Maria wrapped her glove-covered hands around the portions of his arms that crossed her chest. She clung to him, holding him close. Even more shocking was Eric's apparent willingness to remain as he was.

Minutes of nothing passed before Northman spoke. "What do you see?" He asked.

For a moment, Maria struggled with what to tell him. Twice the nightmare had happened around him. She almost felt obligated to tell him something.

"The worst person I've ever met." She said in a weak voice. "A monster."

Maria felt his muscles flinch ever-so-slightly behind her. She wondered if he was surprised by her answer. Maybe he thought _he_ was the worst she'd ever met.

No one spoke after that. Silence stretched between them, and Maria was glad for it. She reveled in it, actually.

Maria soon felt him conform to her back. She felt him almost completely surrounding her. For those few moments, Maria somehow knew that nothing could get to her. For however long Eric remained, "he" couldn't get to her.

* * *

When Eric awoke that night, Maria was still in his arms. They hadn't moved while they slept. He was still lying on his side, cradling her to his chest. The only difference was Maria had rolled over. He no longer held her back to his chest. Instead, she was curled against him, burying her face in his shoulder and beneath his chin.

She clutched at his torso, digging her fingers into his back, and holding on as though she was subconsciously afraid he'd leave her. Almost every inch of her was pressed to him. They weren't entangled, but there was little to no space between the two.

He thought back to what brought them to the situation they found themselves in.

In the middle of the day, Eric felt a wave of fear so strong that it nearly swept him away. It electrified his body completely and filled him with such a pure form a dread that it nearly caused him to vomit. The worst part was, the feeling was familiar.

Eric opened his eyes and immediately noticed Maria was in the throes of something terrifying. She was lying on her back with the blankets kicked the majority off her sweating body. Her fists were clenched tight, one around a corner of her pillow, and the other so securely shut that he wondered if those claws of hers were piercing her palm.

A sheen of sweat covered the skin he could see. She was tinted pink, her heart was beating out of control, and she was breathing quickly, but the saddest thing was her face. It was twisted, her brows furrowed and her lips parted as she desperately struggled for air. She was so afraid.

Eric knew what would happen soon. If the nightmare she was experiencing was anything like the one she'd had in his house, Maria wasn't far from thrashing and letting loose a horrifying shriek –neither of which he could permit. He couldn't let her react that way in the king's house.

Before it happened, the Viking pulled her to him, pressing her back to his chest. He placed her arms across her chest, wrapped his long, strong arms around her, and simply held on. Sure enough, within what felt like seconds, she began to react. He felt her muscles clench and ripple beneath his hold, but he wouldn't let go. Shortly after that, he heard her take in a deep breath. An instant before she would have screamed, Eric's hand clamped down over her mouth. The power of it vibrated against his palm, but little sound escaped.

When Maria awoke, still panicked and afraid, he continued to keep her secure. It took a few minutes for her to calm, but when he felt her body go lax in his arms, he removed his hand from her mouth. She began to tremble and shake. Even if he couldn't feel her fear through their bond of blood, he could taste it. Each droplet of sweat on her skin reeked of the emotion.

Eric had planned to release her entirely, but when he loosened his hold further –signaling his intent- Maria did something that both surprised him and stroked the ego she seemed bent on ignoring. Small pinpricks of pressure dug into his forearms. They were her fingers –small spots of concentrated strength and sweltering heat.

An undeniably arrogant smile twisted his lips as a wave of the emotion swept through him. For those few moments Maria needed him. There was no denying the fact. She clung to him, refused to let him go because she wanted him to stay with her. It delighted him, honestly. She was always so proud and defiant, and yet, now, she seemed desperate for him to remain.

For that short time, Eric was glad to swim in it, until he chose to speak. He didn't know what compelled him to ask anything about her nightmare at the time, but he did, and he wasn't inspired by what she said. Her response shocked him, frankly, because he knew he'd never once instilled such terror in her, but this memory did.

A cold and unsettling feeling took him. It was unfamiliar at first. He didn't like it because he recognized it too late. It wasn't until Eric realized he had committed to lying with her at least until she fell back asleep that he felt anger on her behalf. Eric was very angry at whatever hurt her enough that she woke in a cold sweat screaming.

Eric didn't know when he fell asleep, only that he woke again with her in his arms and everything from that day came back to him.

The longer he remained motionless, the stranger it became. Eric was consciously staying as still as possible while she slept and he didn't know why. Her comfort shouldn't matter to him. He shouldn't be actively accommodating, and yet, he was. The truth was, Eric should have woken her up so they could attend to business that day. He was in the right to do so, and knew she'd not only understand, but expect it.

But, no. He didn't move or let a single muscle tense.

He stared at the wall across from him in confusion, as though it would somehow offer any answers to help clear his muddled brain. It didn't. Of course it didn't.

He had no way of gauging the time that passed before Maria moved. He'd thought at first that she was finally waking, but her heart rate never changed. It remained low and steady as she adjusted herself in his arms.

Maria pushed herself against him. Eric complied with her silent, unconscious demands and rolled onto his back. Maria continued to cling to him, crawling partially onto his body like a woman might with a lover, even going so far as to drape her leg over his lap.

The hand that had clutched at his arm for the majority of the night glided up his chest, over his shoulder and the side of his neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair and gently held the back of his head while she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

The way Maria moved against his body, the way she shifted and stirred couldn't quite be considered writhing, but it was undeniably sultry. There was a lustful undertone that Eric recognized and found himself willing to accept.

Simply reacting to the moment, Eric placed his hand on her bare thigh. Her skin burned his palm. In fact, it burned everything it touched. She was so warm that for those few seconds, Eric could pretend he had body heat as well. He could pretend he was alive.

Maria nuzzled her nose against his neck. His eyes drifted shut as she breathed deep and let out a soft, sweet sigh. He was more than willing to remain that way, to stay entwined with her because he had grown surprisingly comfortable with the prospect, but it wasn't meant to be.

No sooner than he made the decision to stay as he was, Eric felt Maria's entire body tense. He knew in that instant that the moment had passed. Sure enough, shortly after, Maria shot up. She stared down at him with a blank expression, but eyes wide in shock. He couldn't help himself and instead of letting the subject rest, his natural sarcasm emerged.

A grin, as arrogant and cocky as those before it, spread his lips. Eric lifted his arm and used it to prop up his head while the other stroked the small of her back.

"Good evening." He said with a low, sultry tone that rolled through his words. "Sleep well?"

Maria's cheek instantly blushed and her glare returned. Without a word, she shoved herself out of bed and away from him.

When she could no longer see his face, Eric's smile faded. His entire right side was cold in her absence, deathly so, and it felt wrong.

As she tugged her clothes on, Eric knew he should rise, too, and did. Without a word to one another, they dressed.

* * *

Eric went about his business that night with Maria still lingering in his shadow. She refused to look him in the eye, even when there was no one around, and he knew the reason. She was embarrassed. Truthfully, he was, too. Eric felt as though he'd slipped just as badly as she did, so he was more than willing to ignore the entire situation.

He marveled at her ability to play her role as perfectly as she did. Maria kept herself just close enough while remaining an appropriate distance away. She kept her chin slightly down and her eyes averted from those around her. She even kept her gloved-hands clasped unsurely in front of her. The young woman's ability surprised Eric, despite his being well-aware that it shouldn't. He knew Maria wasn't dim. In fact, never once since meeting her did she give the impression that she was anything other than an intelligent woman, but her apparent willingness to take on the role of a servant to someone she loathed astounded him. Not even within the walls of Fangtasia or around the vampires of Louisiana did she pretend as convincingly. It was as though she knew _exactly_ what was at stake in front of the king of Mississippi.

Eric respected her conviction and admired it as well, whether he was aware of the fact or not.

As Eric smiled and played his part while Talbot led him on a long and winding tour, a commotion brought the two vampires out of their thoughts. There was a fight happening just out of their line of sight, something that wouldn't remain unattended by the Man of the House.

Eric followed behind the dark-haired vampire and was surprised by what he saw.

"Say that again." Lorena's voice was tight, her body rigid, and clasped within her hand and aimed at an uncaring Maria's throat was a glistening blade. The young woman simply stood there staring defiantly at the brunette with her chin up. The tip of the blade couldn't have been a foot from her throat, but it might as well have been a mile with how "worried" she looked.

"What is the meaning of this?" Talbot asked with a level of detachment that seemed to always accompany him when speaking to women.

"This… this little _cunt_," Lorena's voice trembled, she was so angry. Eric wondered briefly if she had any control over herself at all. "Doesn't know her place."

"Aw," Talbot's voice dripped with such thick derision that it might have choked anyone else. "Did the little blood sack hurt your feelings?"

Lorena was so tense that her body shook. She could only take one shaking breath after another. Eric couldn't help but grin. How terrible it must have been to be so easily provoked. If he cared enough, he might have pitied her.

"The girl belongs to me." Eric said with casual disinterest. He was sure to lace his words with the same amount of care one might use when someone threatened to key their car, or abscond with something of theirs, nothing more. He had to be sure to make it clear she was an object to him because Lorena would happily tell the king otherwise. "If you slit her throat, you will have to compensate me."

Lorena's painted lips curled into a smile. She kept the knife in place, but took a step forward. She seemed to genuinely enjoy the idea, and Eric noticed, so he spoke again.

"Unless," He turned to Talbot with a smile of his own. The vampire met his eye. "I could always snap my fingers."

"Hm," Talbot smirked and arched a thick brow. "And what will happen then?" He cooed.

"She'll do what all well-trained dogs do." Eric lifted his hand, pressing his middle finger to his thumb. "Attack."

A sparkle of intrigue glittered in Talbot's eye. Eric could see his internal battle, the battle between the prospect of a fight and worry over his furnishings.

"It's up to you." Eric said in a seductive tone.

Talbot was practically giddy with the thought, but at the last moment, he withdrew. The glitter in his eyes vanished and his shoulders slumped.

"Perhaps later." He said. He hooked his elbow with Eric's. "We don't want to ruin the furniture, do we?"

"No," Eric grinned. "We do not."

As he turned with his guide, Eric heard Lorena behind him taunting Maria.

"You're lucky your _master_ is keepin; you on such a tight leash. Otherwise, I'd happily spend the next hour peelin' your muscles from your bones."

Before he and Talbot left the foyer completely, he heard Maria say in Russian, with no fear, "_How can you be so confident when you have to paint your face with so much shit? I'm not frightened of clowns."_

Eric grinned to himself and her willingness to antagonize Lorena, but it had the desired effect. Lorena let out a loud shriek and a choking sound was heard shortly after. Eric and Talbot spun just in time to see Lorena grasping Maria by the throat. Without hesitation, Eric snapped his fingers.

Maria sprang into action almost immediately. She lunged for Lorena, tore her arms away from her throat, and threw the vampire to the tiled floor. Lorena cried out when her back slammed into the floor so hard that Eric felt it vibrate in his feet.

It took seconds for the world to settle once more, and when it had, Eric couldn't help but laugh. Maria had her body pressed to Lorena's, hovering over her like a murderous creature. She was contorted strangely, yet gracefully. Lorena's right wrist was pressed against the tiles beneath Maria's left foot. Lorena's left wrist was held down by Maria's right hand, while Maria's left was wrapped securely around the vampire's throat.

Their chests were nearly touching, Maria was so close. Her face was inches from the twisted features of the woman beneath her. Eric thoroughly enjoyed what he saw. Maria, deadly little Maria, had subdued a nearly three-hundred-year-old vampire with little to no effort.

"Oh, my," Talbot crooned. "Impressive little beast, isn't she?"

"I require the best and expect perfection from my underlings." Eric told him.

"I'm sure you do."

Eric looked to the man at his side and made sure to exude the appropriate amount of flirtatious desire. Talbot was beaming. Eric wondered if Talbot was unaware of the obviousness of his craving, or simply didn't care. It was likely the latter.

They shared a moment before Talbot glanced briefly to the scene again. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Call her off."

"We wouldn't want to get blood on the tile, would we?"

Talbot scrunched his nose playfully and smiled again. "No. We don't."

Eric offered a wink and lifted his hand. He snapped again, and as before, Maria responded. She slowly rose and eventually released Lorena entirely. She kept her eye on the vampire as she backed toward Eric and Talbot.

Lorena was clearly enraged by what was happening and instead of going against the king's husband, she stormed off in a huff. Eric did his best to keep from beaming. Her utter frustration was delightful to him. He didn't like Lorena in the least and if they weren't in the king's house, he would've let Maria kill her.

He did want to give Maria something, though. That was why he gave her "permission" to react. The fact was, Eric could see that Maria was taunting the unstable vampire and could see how badly she wanted the fight. He genuinely wanted to give it to her, too. He wanted to give her the release.

It was hard to describe what happened. Eric only knew that the two of them were on the same page. He knew that Maria was aware of how dangerous their situation was, of how she had to act and portray herself. And he was just as aware that it took all of her strength not to instantly put the vocal wench in her place. He also knew that she had reacted to Lorena's attack a millisecond before he snapped his fingers. The snap was simply to give the illusion he allowed it.

Referring to her as a trained dog left an odd taste in his mouth, but it was the best way he could think to handle the situation. Not only was she meant to be his servant, but unable to speak English. The snapping cue just made sense to him, but the way he said it made him scowl internally, and he didn't know why.

"Perhaps you can teach Russell how you trained your dog." Talbot cooed as he led Eric back to the den where more of their collection rested within a large armoire.

That odd twinge followed Eric into the den. He didn't like Talbot referring to Maria as a dog. When he did it, he knew he didn't mean it. Talbot meant every syllable, and Eric hated it.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN:** Sorry it's been so long. You guys are awesome. Let me know what you think, and please enjoy!

**Chapter 14**

Maria was surprised and slightly confused to see both Sookie and Bill brought through the front doors to the manor. The guards were less surprising.

Within second of arriving, Maria was privy to a shocking scene. Bill Compton had attempted to assassinate the king. Russell found it nothing but funny, revealing his age and just how incompetent Bill was for even attempting. Maria was genuinely stunned by the little man's age. She didn't realize there was a vampire alive so old. It was impressive and horrifying at the same time.

There was more shouting, both from Talbot and Sookie alike. Everyone was so emotional. Meanwhile, Maria couldn't care less. Truthfully, she couldn't make herself care. A simpering little girl crying over her undead boyfriend while shoving herself into their politics without having the slightest inkling as to the gravity of what it meant, meant nothing to her. Actually, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. At some point, Maria assumed it meant there'd be a mess to clean. It'd either be Bill's dead body, or Sookie's.

"Oh, do try." Lorena's voice quivered just as it had when she threatened Maria an hour prior. "I would just _love_ to rip you open and wear your ribcage like a hat."

Maria couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't meant to, but the sound escaped regardless. She found the moment funny. Eric seemed to find it irritating and when he glanced at her, she stifled the giggle, biting down on her lips to pull her smile back, too.

"Tell me you were doing that just for the king's benefit." Sookie said in a relatively deadpan voice.

Eric guided her toward the library and subtly motioned for Maria to follow.

"I don't think anyone plays the king of Mississippi and gets away with it, and I have no intention of trying."

"Why are you even here?" She snapped. "I thought you had other things to deal with."

"Yeah, I do, and I need to think, so don't take this the wrong way, but shut up."

Sookie opened her mouth to speak again, ignoring his request entirely, but Eric was serious when he said he needed her to stop talking. He instantly clamped his hand around her mouth and sarcastically thanked her. Maria was glad for it. She found the blonde's voice grating.

Once in the library, Eric shoved Sookie just hard enough that she had no choice but to fall onto the small sofa. Unlike before, Maria didn't linger outside the room. Instead, she stepped just within the doorway and took to leaning against the paneled wall. She crossed her arms over her chest and got as comfortable as she could.

Silence stretched between them for only a moment. Eric barely had the chance to complete one full "lap" in his pacing before Sookie spoke again. Maria couldn't help but clench her jaw and roll her head from side to side. How could one person cause so much stress in another without intending to?

Talk, talk, talk. So much talking, and yet none of it had a point. It was as though Sookie was speaking simply because she couldn't just be quiet.

"_Should I be worried?"_ Maria asked in her native tongue.

Her sudden speech caused Sookie to snap her mouth shut for the first time since she'd entered the room. Eric, at hearing her silence, let out an audible sigh of relief.

"_Why would you be?"_ He asked in Russian.

"_Because something's changed. You're… different."_

When he turned to look at her, Eric's expression was twisted into something that told her she was being foolish, but she knew otherwise. The aura that surrounded Eric was much lighter earlier in the night. It wasn't until after the tour of the den with Talbot that things had changed.

"_It's an animal thing."_ She told him with surprising ease. _"We can tell when people are anxious."_

Eric scowled and resumed pacing. _"I'm not anxious."_

Maria rolled her eyes. She wasn't criticizing him. It was just something she could sense.

"_I'm trying to think,"_ Eric continued, _"Which is increasingly difficult with these constant interruptions."_

He hissed the last bit as he cast an angry glower her way. Maria held up her hands in surrender. She knew when to stop pressing him. Clearly, something was weighing very heavily on him, and she didn't feel like being on the tail end of a tantrum. And if he was anything like her, a tantrum was exactly what waited for whoever poked at him.

Apparently, that was Sookie. Almost the same instant Maria stopped speaking, the blonde began to spout off, pressing Eric to explain to her why he was "suddenly acting like an asshole". It confused Maria, honestly. Did something happen between the two that would lead Sookie to think Eric Northman was anything else? Unless something happened when she was gone, Maria highly doubted it, but that didn't stop the blonde from acting that way.

Sookie mockingly said, "Sookie, I'm risking everything to tell you this. You mean so much to me. You make me feel almost human."

Maria's eyes went wide at the girl's declaration. It seemed something _did_ happen while she was gone. Though, Eric didn't react like one who cared would have. He lashed out instead, something Maria expected.

"You mean _nothing_ to me." He growled hatefully as he kept his face mere inches from hers. "I am very close to getting something I've wanted since I was human, so don't get in my way."

Sookie was shocked by his outburst, as was Maria. Though, Maria was more surprised by the content of what he'd said.

Eric slowly rose and stood at his full height again, snapping his fangs back into place.

"I _fucking hate you_ Eric Northman." Sookie spat angrily. "And I will pay you back for this."

He shifted enough to stare at her over his broad shoulder. Maria saw him arch a single brow, but she couldn't discern the meaning behind it. She couldn't tell if he was irritated that she thought it mattered to him, or saddened.

Edgington entered the room buckling his slacks as he did. He dismissed Eric a moment later and as Northman left, he motioned for Maria to follow him. She complied, of course. They separated themselves from the multiple things happening on the King's property, not stopping until they were sequestered in a room alone. As before, Maria took her spot against a wall and watched as Eric, once more, resumed his pacing. It was such a curious behavior for the ordinarily stoic man. It was a nervous tick, really, and alluded to something much deeper being wrong.

She let him pace, let him walk a divot into the carpet if he chose, for a good few minutes. Maria struggled with whether or not she should press him. Something was most certainly on his mind, and Maria feared it might affect her own life, so perhaps tempting the bear might not be such a terrible idea.

When she opened her mouth to speak, she wasn't given the chance. Talbot swept into the room with a fanciful gesture and beckoned Eric to his side. He wanted to play a game, apparently, and to placate both the King and his husband, Eric complied without the slightest hesitation.

Maria followed once more, but was so glad she didn't linger. Edgington interrupted the pairs' game less than ten minutes into it and asked for Eric to join him for an errand. When he leapt at the chance for it, he did so just a bit faster than he had when Talbot asked to play his game, and Maria thought Talbot noticed. The hissy-fit he threw showed as much.

"Go to the room." Eric said in English.

Fortunately, Maria remembered their guise and acted accordingly. She pulled her brows together and tilted her head to the side. Her "confusion" seemed to snap Eric back into the moment and he repeated his request in Russian. Maria immediately complied as she was meant to.

As she returned to their room upstairs, Maria cast her eyes back down to the main floor. Eric and Russell were heading for the door, but the Viking glanced in her direction and she could have sworn, at least for a millisecond, that he was offering his silent gratitude before he left. Maria gave him a soft nod, as though it meant anything, and continued upstairs.

On her way to her room, she thought about the strangeness of the moment. It wasn't that she was playing the slave. In reality, she was simply acting _more_ the part than she already was. What kept returning, however, was what could have possibly shifted Northman's focus like it had. They'd gone to the King because the Magister had Pam. Ever since arriving, Eric was nervous and his thoughts were divided. She could tell even if he thought she couldn't. But, _this_ had rattled him. Whatever happened the few minutes she wasn't at his side, when she couldn't see what he saw, left him genuinely disturbed and that worried her.

* * *

Eric sat alongside the King giving no indication as to how chaotic his mind had become. He couldn't stop seeing his father dying in his arms, his mother bleeding and already dead on the floor with his baby sister almost shredded a foot away. And that black figure, that cloaked man who commanded the werewolves, was the King of Mississippi.

While his fires for revenge had never died completely through the years, they had grown softer –more than a smolder, but less than a blaze. Confronted with new information and the proof along with it turned it into nothing short of pure Hellfire. Sitting so close to Russell Edgington genuinely made Eric question whether or not the fires would consume him from the inside out.

"Lorena thinks you killed one of my werewolves." Edgington said.

"I killed _a_ werewolf." Eric corrected him. "But I had no idea it belonged to you."

"To save Sookie?"

"To save myself." His voice was stern. "I'd gone to her home to inquire about Bill Compton when a it attacked me."

"Only a very young or very foolish vampire can be killed by a werewolf." Russell kept his tone light, but probing. "And you are neither."

Eric let some of his internal anger shine through. "Only a very foolish vampire would allow a werewolf who attacked it to live. They are primitive, base creatures and I will freely admit that I despise them."

"And yet," He almost chimed the words happily. "You employ one yourself."

A twinge hit Eric. He knew what he was going to have to do and the millisecond of remorse hit him strong, but it didn't stay his comments.

"I do not employ her." He said angrily. "She was sold to me."

"Oh?"

"Her parents owed me a great sum of money and offered me their child as payment."

"And you accepted."

Eric shrugged a single shoulder as nonchalantly as he could. "I took her more to hurt them than out of need, but given her age at the time, I have since turned her into a useful tool." A sinister grin twisted his lips. "She's been conditioned to think only of pleasing me."

Russell let out a loud, boisterous laugh that hurt Eric's ears to hear, but he played his part and chuckled as well. The truth of the matter was his words tasted foul to him and the disgust radiating in his chest when he spoke about Maria so cruelly was surprisingly real.

The pair continued to talk as they drove to Queen Sophie-Anne's palace and Eric continued to ingratiate himself to the monarch while he thought feverishly on how to destroy him.

* * *

**Night on the Sun**

_Season 3, Episode 8_

When Eric arrived back at the King's palace with Sophie-Anne and her menagerie, as well as with a clearer head now that Pam was safe, he found a palace in chaos. It seemed a lot had happened while he was away, and Sookie's escape was amongst it. While he was glad she'd made it away from the King, he knew he'd have to portray otherwise.

"Your Majesty," He addressed the monarch when he spotted Maria lingering in the shadows. "If you'll excuse me."

Russell noted the man's diverted attention and saw the young woman looking properly ashamed with her head hung low. Eric approached her and noted the way she shrank. She truly did know how to play the part.

"_You let the girl escape?" _He said with barely-hidden rage. It was foolish to assume the King wouldn't be able to understand them, so Eric was sure to be as authentic as possible.

"_She had help. Another girl hit me and-"_

"_Silence,"_ He hissed the word. "_You'll pay for this, for losing the King's property."_

And then she looked up at him with the perfect expression of fear. _"No, please, I didn't mean to."_

Eric knew what he had to do and hoped she would continue to keep the rouse going. A slight wink was the only warning he gave Maria before he raised his hand and brought it against her face.

Two things happened that moment. Just before he would have hit her, Eric drew back. He made contact, yes, but he held back greatly and only struck Maria with enough force to make the sound. Secondly, she flew. He wasn't certain how she did it, though assumed she pushed off the same moment he made contact with her. Whatever tactic she used, Maria sailed through the air and landed hard a few yards from him. She crumpled to the tiled floor, clutching her face while she hid behind a curtain of black hair. He could hear her whimpers.

Eric wouldn't have bothered at all if he didn't think the King was watching every move he made. If he was as loyal to the monarch as he claimed, Eric knew Edgington might have expected Maria to intervene with the escape, even though Eric knew otherwise. If that was the case, Russell probably expected Maria to be punished, too. Eric would much rather be the one doing it than the King.

Edgington was chuckling and grinning when Eric approached him again.

"You Majesty, clearly, my wolf needs to relearn a few of her lessons. Is there anywhere I may take her?"

"Hm," He sighed while he thought. "Will there be blood?"

"Oh, I can assure you, Your Majesty, she will bleed."

He grinned again and nodded. "I'll have the guards take her to one of the rooms in the basement. You'll have your privacy there and we won't have to worry about making a mess."

"Thank you," Eric offered him a bow.

Russell snapped his fingers and motioned to his men who mobilized on Maria immediately. Eric watched as she begged and cried out in Russian while they took her away. He was in awe of her, honestly, and wasn't above admitting it to himself this time. Every iota of her performance ever since they'd set foot under the King's roof was masterful. She was perfect.

As he returned to the moment at hand and waited to be dismissed to tend to Maria, Eric realized that she was always perfect. She always played her part to the best of her abilities. Yes, the attitude she gave was undeniable, but Eric liked attitude. That was why he and Pam were so well complimented to one another.

Maria never disappointed him, not really at least, and perhaps that meant she should be rewarded? Yes. She deserved something, and the only thing he could think to give her was the ability to cook in his home. She'd only ever asked for two things –the ability to cook, or to move out, and he wasn't going to let her leave. But, cooking, that he could permit. He'd even let her make the foods humans themselves admitted stank, like fish, or broccoli.

Roughly twenty minutes after sending Maria to the bowels of the mansion, Eric finally sought her out. The trek was easy to make, and it was even simpler to find her. While the basement of the mansion was convoluted with matching hallways and steel doors, the two guards standing on either side of one door told him all he needed to know. When he reached them, he dismissed the two and waited until they left to enter.

The inside of the room caused Eric to raise a brow. It looked like a morgue. The walls and floor were all sealed concrete (easy to hose down) and there was a drain in the middle of the floor. Above the drain was an autopsy table, complete with its own drainage, and Maria. She was chained to it, all four points manacled to the four corners of the table.

To the left of her sat a metallic, rolling table. On top was a tray with all manner of horrifying instruments of torture, her gloves and jewelry, and the keys to her cuffs. He grinned a little. It appeared the King was well-versed as were his guards.

Maria lifted her head just as he made it to the steel instruments. He picked up a particularly nasty-looking one. He wasn't certain what it was, or what it could be used for, but it was curved, had barbs of varying size along said curve, and looked like it could cause considerable damage. He held it aloft, just between his line of sight and Maria's, ensuring she could see it, too.

"The King is very accommodating." He teased.

Maria openly rolled her eyes and laid her head back on the cold steel beneath her. "Are you going to uncuff me, or not?"

"I don't know." He replied, smirking again when he saw her shoot him a dirty look. "I may just commit this site to memory, first."

"Ridiculous," She sighed under her breath.

Eric chuckled and set the gnarly tool back down before reaching for the keys. Her legs were closest to him, so he undid them first, then moved to her wrists. The first of them was undone easily enough, but not the second. For some reason, it was twisted around her hand and he couldn't quite figure out why until he realized how much bigger she was than the space allowed on the table. The guards likely had to compensate and tightened the chain the only way they knew how just so she'd fit.

Maria watched him as he reached forward to grab the chain from the center of her palm. It was a mistake.

"No, don't!"

But it was too late. For the briefest of moments, Eric's bare finger grazed the inside of her hand, and that was all it took. The scream that broke from Maria's lips was more horrifying than anything Eric had ever heard before and it sent him reeling back.

Maria's back arched as though she was being electrocuted. When it hit the table again, it couldn't take the force and the entire thing –Maria included- toppled to the floor with a thunderous clank. The echoes of her scream rang loudly in his ears and prickled his skin. It made his dead heart feel like it was thundering within his chest.

Maria lay on the floor, curled in on herself as best she could be with one arm still out to the side and connected to the table by a handcuff. She was shaking, almost violently, while a very-real whimper left her.

Eric didn't know how long had passed before either of them moved, but it was Maria who did so first. Slowly, she unfurled her body and did her best to sit up. She was slouched forward, tendrils of hair hung in her face, and she continued to shake. She gradually managed to lift her head just enough he could see her. A thin sheen of sweat covered her very-pink skin, tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood trickled from her nose. She was ghastly pale and looked close to death.

"So many memories…" She mumbled. Eric wondered if she was aware she'd spoken out loud. And then her face twisted in pain and sadness. She buried it in her freehand and shook her head. "Oh God, so much pain."

Eric continued to stare at her wide-eyed and motionless while she wept into her hand. He'd never seen her react that way before, nor had he ever seen her cry. It seemed wrong, like it was out of place.

"What just happened?" He finally managed to get the words out, to speak the only question coursing through his mind.

He heard Maria sniff before she lifted her head again. She ran the back of her hand across her lips and wiped away the blood, though only partially. Some of it smeared across her cheek.

"I can't touch people." She told him in a voice as broken as she looked. Eventually, she met his gaze. "When I do, I see everything." A spark of fear stabbed at him. "I _feel_… everything…"

"What does that mean?"

Her brows pulled together and he wondered if she was about to start crying again. Maria's head dipped. Eric almost didn't want her to answer because he was genuinely afraid of what she'd say. He felt like he already knew.

"Memories," She mumbled. "I see their whole life as plainly as I can remember my own. All of it." She shook her head slightly and said on a breath, "A thousand years…"

Eric was a swarm of emotion for those first few seconds, but one began to make its way to the forefront. Rage. It was bigger than rage, actually. What he felt could only be described as something similar to the hatred he felt for Russell, and at the moment, it was aimed solely at Maria.

"How _dare_ you." He growled in an inhuman voice. It drew Maria's dwindling gaze. "What gives you the right?" She didn't speak. She didn't really look capable. Eric knew that if he didn't remove himself from the situation that moment that he would hurt her. Actually, he'd kill her, and he'd do so in the most brutal way he could think of –which wasn't insubstantial. "Get out of my sight." He threw the keys to her. "Go back to Shreveport, I don't care."

And with that, he left.

Eric barely made it to the stairs that led to the main floor before he had to stop. He was shaking violently. He felt betrayed, embarrassed, and worse yet, exposed. If Maria was to be believed, there wasn't a second of his life that she hadn't just witnessed, and he believed her. Whatever happened to her was too visceral, too real, to be faked.

He felt disgusting. In many ways, it was like Maria had sat down, cut open his body, and played with his insides. It was the same to him, the same invasiveness. There were things in his life he'd never told his friends, family, Godric, or even Pam –but Maria now knew it all.

As he stood there at the base of the stairs, struggling to regain control, Eric felt something trickle down his cheek. He wiped it away and saw the crimson left behind from the tear.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** Another chapter so soon?! Whaaaat? lol. I was in the groove last night and wrote this one up, too, so I decided to post it since, yeah, it can easily look like Eric and Maria took a huge step back. This is a kind of "middle" chapter, just something where stuff mundanely happens. Normal, basically, but I just wanted you to know that things between Eric and Maria do even out very quickly, like, next chapter. Promise. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think, and Enjoy!

**Chapter 15**

Maria lay in bed staring at the ceiling of the room she had at Eric's house. She'd been there for hours with her mind racing, struggling really, to sort through a thousand years of memories. She'd never touched someone so old before and been drowned in the past. When she touched Godric, it was intentional. He was strong enough to block out most of the noise, even though she still saw some of the "extra" bits. But with Northman… there was no barrier, no dam to keep everything back. She was flooded with his life within seconds.

If there was a soul on the planet she didn't want to know that intimately, it was Eric Northman.

There was so much information surging through her brain that she had trouble organizing it. The most recent information was jumbled with his strongest memories. The mundane, the things that happened during the day-to-day that meant nothing were wisps. She could easily ignore those, but anything that held emotion of any degree, things that mattered or were important, _those_ were what fought to get to the foreground.

It did offer clarity, though. Maria saw the slaughter of his family, saw and felt the pain it left behind. That memory was tied to a recent one which meant it was right alongside the first. Maria finally saw what made Eric so anxious and worried before. He found his father's crown in Russell's collection. _That_ was why he was suddenly so disoriented. She understood completely.

Along with the deep, unrivaled sense of revenge he felt, Maria also saw his time with Godric, and even Pam. She felt his love for them both, and relived Godric's death in a much more intense way than she had before.

The seeing others' past was bad enough, but Maria would give anything asked of her, literally anything, to not feel them, too. The emotional transfer was always painful, but coming from Northman, it nearly killed her. She actually bled. Never before had Maria been so effected that her nose bled.

She'd seen his human life, felt his joy in battle and his readiness to die. She felt him turn and the love for Godric. She felt centuries of both delight in bloodshed and frustration that his revenge hadn't been slated. It was everything, absolutely everything. She'd even seen (through his eyes) herself when he walked into the torture room, and up until the moment he touched her hand.

The look of betrayal she saw afterward actually broke her heart a little. He looked like a child whose favorite parent told them they were no longer loved. That was the best way she could think to describe it. It was so deep and profound. She wished she could take it back, for multiple reasons, but mostly because of that look.

Maria had seen it more than once on a number of faces. As a child, she didn't understand why, but as an adult she did. No one wanted their life laid bare, least of all to a little girl, or someone they barely knew. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, to have secrets they wanted to take to the grave, but Maria robbed them of the ability whether she meant to or not.

Surely, he'd have to know it wasn't intentional. She told him the first night she was out of her box that bad things happened when she touched people. She told him it was dangerous. Granted, specifics weren't given, but the warning was there.

The one good thing to be brought out of it (if there was any at all) was Maria now knew what Sookie was. The little blonde waitress was a fairy, a God damned, light-sucking, magic-using, nature-fucking fairy. Maria had hoped she'd never meet one. She'd hoped, foolishly it seemed, that they were all dead and gone. Clearly, she wasn't that lucky. It did explain the vampires' obsession with the blonde, though, and Maria's deep-seated, primal fear of her, too.

"Fucking fairies," Maria mumbled to herself.

* * *

A night and a day passed and Maria remained on her own. She didn't bother contacting either Pam or Eric. There'd be no point. She simply had to wait for Eric to speak to her again. Last time, it was when he needed something a week later. She was fine with that.

A knock on her door around ten AM woke her from a shallow sleep. Annoyed and confused, she rose to answer it. Maria wasn't in the mood to deal with solicitors, neighbors, or religious-types trying to push their God on her. She was religious, once. Did the term "ironic" encompass a woman who lost her faith in God, but was canonized as a Saint after she died? It seemed the perfect definition.

When she opened the front door, temporarily blinded by the eastern sun shining directly into her face, Maria was met with a middle-aged man in a suit holding a briefcase. She arched a brow at him.

"No thank you." She said, more than willing to slam the door in his face when he spoke.

"Miss Romanov,"

The door was inches from closing completely when he spoke her name, something that instantly caused her to pause. Slowly, Maria opened it once more and eyed him skeptically. No one, _no one_ in Louisiana knew her name –that she knew of. At least, no one who knew where to find her and actually wanted to speak to her.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

He reached into his pocket and offered her his card. She took it apprehensively.

"My name is Andrew Morris. I'm Mr. Northman's attorney."

Her face twisted with even further confusion. "Well, he isn't here, and I don't know how you know my name, so…" She offered him the card once more, but he refused to take it.

"No, Miss Romanov," He said with a light smile. "Mr. Northman _sent_ me. Now," he glanced at his watch. "We don't have much time. The paperwork will need to be filed soon, so if we can get on with this."

"Get on with what?" she was losing her patience. "What's going on?"

It was his turn to look confused, but he was over it faster than she was. Perhaps it was simply his constant dealing with Eric as his lawyer, or maybe it was simply his dealings with vampires in general. Whatever the reason, he recovered quickly.

"Mr. Northman sent me to help facilitate your home purchase."

Shock. That was the best way to describe it. She was shocked.

"I'm buying a house?"

"Yes, ma'am. May I?" He motioned towards the interior of the house and it was only then she seemed to realize she was still standing there with the door open.

Maria nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. After she closed the door, she took him into the kitchen. There was no hesitation. Mr. Morris immediately opened his briefcase and offered her a pair of folders. Each one held a property –the pictures, simplistic floor plan printouts, and their stats.

"Now, these two owners are willing to forego escrow and sign over the property before the end of business today." He said.

"Well, that's great, but what's the rush? If I'm going to buy a house, I'd like to take some time to look at a few, first." She told him as though it should have been obvious. And then she glanced at the prices of the two properties and her heart sank. "And ones a bit cheaper."

While she wasn't lacking for finances, Maria wasn't exactly prepared to hand hundreds of thousands of dollars over for properties she didn't entirely want.

"No, ma'am." He said. "You won't have to pay for anything. Mr. Northman has taken care of that already. The home will be in _your_ name, but he is covering the financial side of the transaction."

She felt a jolt of fear. Something was wrong, deeply, _deeply_ wrong if Northman was offering to buy a house for her, especially less than twenty-four hours after what happened in Mississippi.

"Okay," She answered unsurely. Maria wasn't entirely sure what else to do and chose to simply play along. It was basically a free house.

She looked over the two files, both open and revealing the pictures of each house. One was a simple, single-family home. It was basic and she didn't like it. It was just too plain for her and she felt nothing looking at it.

The other, however, was much nicer. It was an old farmhouse that looked abandoned. It was a relatively large building, boxy with a thousand windows, and a large front porch. Perhaps it was the thick columns in front, the ones that made it look like a weak attempt at a plantation house, or maybe even the Widow's Walk above the porch that drew her to the house, she couldn't say. Whatever the reason, _that_ was the house she liked.

"This one," She shoved it toward him and closed the file on the second.

Mr. Morris nodded and reached for the paperwork. "Now," He said as he did, "Just be aware, this property is being sold immediately which means as-is. There's no inspection, so if there are problems," He opened a new file filled with crisp white pages she was probably going to sign, "There's nothing we can do about it."

Maia grumbled to herself, but she understood. So long as ceilings weren't crumbling and floors hadn't buckled from leaks or mold, she could repair damages.

After a nod, Mr. Morris began his speech about what she was signing. Thankfully, he was willing to ignore that she had no photo ID to prove who she was, or any other identifying document. Apparently, money truly did buy everything, and Eric had much more of it than she thought.

* * *

Maria parked her stolen motorcycle and stood in front of her new house. It felt odd for more than a few reasons. Not only had she not owned property in quite some time, but she hadn't even bought it. Was it a gift? Or, the more likely, had Eric bought the house because he didn't want to see her anymore?

She leaned toward the latter.

The house looked haunted, but maybe that was why she liked it so much. Peeling beige paint hinted at the siding beneath. The shudders had the same weathered appearance and the windows were dirty. It sat on top of a sloping hill in the center of four acres. Maria had the suspicion that it was one of those old family plots of land that had somehow stayed mostly intact despite the development that surrounded it. And while the house was on a small hill, it was surrounded by trees. At least she had a little privacy.

With deed and keys in hand, Maria walked up the porch. The wood creaked beneath her heels.

The lock gave way easily and the door opened without a squeaking hinge, but the smell of stale air hit her like a fist to the face. Clearly, the house hadn't been opened in some time.

Standing in the foyer, Maria could see straight down a hall to the backdoor. It seemed far away, tucked to the side of the stairs that led up. To her immediate left was a living room or den, and to her immediate right was the same, just slightly different. Without furniture, she couldn't tell for certain. She walked to the left.

Large windows and wood floors, with peeling wallpaper, and aged wood molding met her. She arched a curious brow at it. The room was decently sized and had potential. To her right there was another doorway, so she walked through it and into what could only be described as a formal dining room. She was met with more of the same, though different colored wallpaper, and another doorway in front of her. It led to the kitchen.

The kitchen was old, with old appliances that she couldn't say worked, or not. A huge bay window rested above the farm sink and overlooked the back of the property. She turned to the right again, glanced down the hall that led directly to the front door, and walked through the breakfast nook. She walked through yet another doorway, though this one had an actual door. She assumed the room was an office of some kind, and continued into the final room downstairs. It was the one that was to the right of the foyer. The whole downstairs was a circle.

Next came the second floor, and Maria was sure to step carefully because she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't fall through. Once there, she was greeted once more with a long, narrow hall, at the end of which was another window, a window she guessed was above the backdoor.

None of the rooms upstairs were connected like the ones on the main floor, except the two that faced the front of the house, but they weren't connected in the typical sense. The foyer had a high ceiling, one that she expected reached the natural height of the house, but the Widow's Walk, the balcony outside that stretched the length of the front porch, had two double French doors on either end. As a result, both bedrooms one each side of the house were technically connected.

The downside though, beyond the layers of dust and cosmetic damage that needed to be repaired, and beyond the fact that electricity would take an unknown amount of time to turn on (for some reason) was the single bathroom. It was palatial, sure, and sported a claw foot tub, a large window that overlooked the backyard and the woods therein, but it was still just one and upstairs. A toilet downstairs would have been nice, but easily fixed when she renovated. And she would definitely renovate. She initially thought the door beneath the stairs led to a powder room, but it didn't. It led to a dank, unfinished, dirt-floor cellar.

Still, she liked it, probably more than she should, and it was all hers.

* * *

Maria had opened the doors to her new home a little after two in the afternoon, every window shortly after that, and spent the remaining sunlight cleaning every inch of it. Gathering supplies was a pain in the ass given she had no car, but a well-compensated cab driver was willing to offer aid. Even more wonderful was that the house had well-water. It ran without city interference, and she'd never have a bill, though the strong scent of sulfur told her the filtration needed to be repaired.

Cleaning slowed when Maria was forced to rely on the three candles she'd purchased alongside her cleaning supplies, but since she wasn't human, she managed. In the morning, she'd buy some lanterns along with the furniture she planned to get.

Around ten thirty, her phone beeped. She paid it passing attention since she was busy dumping another bucket of soiled mop water down the toilet, but when she was hands free and had the chance, she was shocked to see who it was from.

**Viking: Come to Fangtasia.**

That was it, three words without context. For a moment, no matter how brief, Maria thought about ignoring it, but the thought left her quickly. She knew Eric well now, definitely well enough to recognize that he wouldn't be asking her to meet him unless it was important. That combined with the purchase of the farmhouse simply reaffirmed the fact.

Dusting herself off, she made her way to Fangtasia.

* * *

When Maria arrived, she was surprised to see Mr. Morris leaving. The lawyer offered her a kind word in passing, but looked busy and in a hurry to leave. As she entered the club, she was met with the sound of arguing. Yvetta was quite angry as she stormed away and Pam seemed no better.

"You can be a cold-hearted bastard sometimes." She said as she walked off, too. She barely cast her eye in Maria's direction as she disappeared into the back.

Maria was less certain about her decision to answer Eric's text than she had been before. Tensions were high and she had arrived in the middle of something. A bit apprehensively, she still approached the stoic vampire.

Eric was sat at a table with an official-looking document in front of him. His eyes were focused on the distance and he seemed to be in his thoughts. She almost didn't want to break him out of them. It didn't matter. He spoke when she was perhaps five yards from him.

"I need you to take Pam to your house." He said in a somber tone. "Invite her inside. She needs to be kept safe."

"Okay," She muttered unsurely. "What's happening?"

At first, he didn't reply, which she fully expected. Maria didn't really think he'd tell her, but she asked out of nervous habit. She was surprised to hear him answer, however.

"I killed Talbot." He told her plainly. Maria felt a jolt of shock. "Russell Edgington is unstable now. He'll stop at nothing to hurt me and Pam is important."

Maria fought the urge to tell him that she was well-aware of how important Pam was to him now, but she felt obligated to say something else.

"I'm sorry."

Eric turned his head just a bit to the side, enough she could see him in profile, but he didn't speak. He merely acknowledged that he heard her. Maria felt compelled to continue during the rare moment of silence on his part.

"I didn't mean for it to happen." She continued while she could. "That's why I wear the gloves. You have no idea what it's like. I can never touch people without-"

"It's fine." He interrupted her sharply, but his tone remained level. Eric turned his head to face forward once more. "Take Pam to your house."

Maria nodded. Her mind raced as she turned and stepped towards the door that led to the back, but paused half way there.

"I…" She found the words sticking in her throat because she couldn't believe what she was about to say. It was beyond insanity as far as she was concerned, and yet, knowing everything she now knew, she felt obligated. "I can return the favor."

She saw him flinch slightly before shifting in his seat to face her completely for the first time since she'd arrived. Confusion twisted his features.

"I…" Again, she hesitated. Maria began to wring her hands. "I can show you everything… about me." His confusion vanished in an instant, replaced once more by his blank expression and in it, Maria was immediately hit with regret. She tried to cover herself. "Never mind." She said quickly. "I'll get Pam."

And with that, she all but ran into the back just to remove herself from the situation she'd created. Maria kicked herself immediately for the stupidity of it. She'd only ever done it twice before, and that was with her own family. Yet, a part of her felt as though she had to offer him the chance, as though it would somehow make them even. She prayed he never took her up on the offer because, like everyone else, there were a thousand things she didn't want anyone else to know about her.

Shaking her head to herself, Maria opened the door to Eric's office where she heard Pam pacing. The blonde instantly stopped and shot her an angry scowl.

"What?" She snapped.

"Uh," Maria was a little slow to answer, not from shock as to her attitude, though. She still couldn't believe how stupid she'd been only a second prior when speaking to Northman. "Eric wants me to take you to my house so I can invite you in."

Pam arched a perfectly sculpted brow while Maria swam in shock. She'd never called Eric by his first name before, at least not out loud.

"Fine," Pam's short and angry word brought Maria back into the moment. "Let's go. I need to get the hell outta here, anyway."

And with that, the towering blonde walked by her and out of the club. Maria followed, casting Eric a sideways glance in the process. He still hadn't moved.

* * *

Pam hadn't removed her scowl since she got out of her car. It only grew worse the moment they stepped through the door and into the house itself. Maria thought the fact that it was dark only helped her. It saved her from even more of Pam's vitriol.

"Why in the _hell_ did you buy this shithole?" She asked bluntly.

"I didn't." Maria replied. "Northman did." She consciously refused to call him Eric out loud again. "And I'm beginning to think it was so I can be used as a safe house."

"Hm," She approached Maria. Her heels clacking against the hardwood floors echoed in the expansive house. "You're outta your goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna be sleepin' on your floor."

Maria rolled her eyes. "Unless you plan to sleep here tonight, don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Fine," she all but snapped. "You should do somethin' about the smell, too."

Maria frowned, but said nothing else as Pam stepped around her and left. As she watched the always-fabulous vampire leave, Maria felt a question rise in her throat, but she bit it back successfully. She didn't need to know why Eric was putting his affairs in order. She could guess, and she knew she was right. There was no point in asking Pam.

With nothing else to do, Maria locked up the house, got on her bike again, and drove back to Eric's. She had no intentions of sleeping on her floor, either.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** Long as shit! But, I hope you guys like it. I love the comments, lol. Anyway, as always, feel free to let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter 16**

I Smell a Rat

_Season 3, Episode 10_

Eric headed home to change. He had a few more things to tend to that night now that legal affairs were no longer a concern. Slowly but surely, everything was coming together about as well as he could expect them to.

As he threaded his jacket onto his body, he glanced around his room. He'd miss it, though he wasn't entirely certain why. It wasn't necessarily his possessions that he'd miss, but there was something. Perhaps it was simply living and the freedom that went along with it.

With a sigh, he headed for the front door and nearly managed to open it before the door opened on its own. Eric froze when Maria appeared, and she did the same. They were clearly surprised to see one another, but he managed to recover quickly.

"Is it taken care of?"

Maria nodded. "She criticized it the whole time."

Eric smirked. He expected nothing less.

"Are you sleeping here tonight?"

She nodded once more. "Unless you need me for something."

"No," He shook his head. "I have my own business to attend to."

"Okay,"

An awkward moment passed between them. Eric found that he had many things he wanted to say to her, but none of them seemed willing to emerge. Instead of speaking any of them, he simply chose to remove himself from the situation entirely.

"I have to go."

Maria flinched. "Right," She said. She'd been standing in the doorway and stepped aside when he spoke.

Without another word, Eric left his house.

As he ran the distance to Bon Temp to confront Bill, he found himself wondering why he was bothering to taunt the man in the first place. There was no real point in it, nothing he could gain long-term, and yet, he wanted to poke and prod. He wanted to anger Bill, or maybe destroy his relationship with Sookie.

Then a thought struck him that he didn't like. Maybe he just wanted to see Sookie one last time? It was possible, though he wasn't entirely thrilled with the fact. He did have to admit, however, that he enjoyed the smell of her. He knew why now, sure, but that didn't make it any less true. He liked the smell of her and he found her attractive, so perhaps that was reason enough. She might have annoyed the shit out of him, and didn't know when it was prudent not to speak, but the monster inside him craved her. It was just his rational mind that she bothered and sometimes the monster won out.

As he ran, he decided that yes, his trip would hold dual purpose. Not only would it serve to antagonize a vampire who irritated him beyond words and possibly soil him in Sookie's eyes, but he'd be able to at least smell her again.

* * *

It was nearly five in the morning by the time Eric made his way home. He'd initially thought he would sleep at Fangtasia again, but his feet carried him back to his house and to Maria's room.

He stood at the foot of her bed, well aware of how sinister and creepy he was being as he watched her sleep, but the peacefulness of it drew him in. She was on her side, barely covered by the blanket and curling her pillow under her head to fit her more comfortably. She looked so delicate and innocent, and he had trouble looking away.

Eric thought back to the torture chamber in Edgington's basement and how he'd reacted to her invasion. With a clearer head, he was aware that she hadn't intentionally stolen his past, but that was how it felt at the time. And yet, completely unlike himself, he didn't react. With anyone else, Eric knew without a shadow of a doubt that'd he'd have killed them rather than let another person know him so well, but he didn't. He didn't even lay a hand on her. Instead, he walked away.

As strange as it sounded, even to him, Eric knew that there could only have been one reason as to why he would have done that.

He really did care about her. To which degree, he couldn't say, but Eric must care about her a substantial amount in order to let her live after being privy to things he never told a soul.

But that left them uneven, and he didn't like it. When it came to Maria, Eric was now the lesser of the two, the weaker and subservient one in the "relationship". His ego would never cope, no matter how long he had left to live. The scales needed to be rebalanced.

"Maria,"

His voice was soft, but strong enough she should have heard him. A part of her brain must have because she shifted and breathed deep, but didn't rise.

"Maria," He said a little sterner than before.

That seemed to make her conscious enough that she sensed she was no longer alone. Maria suddenly shot up and for a brief moment he saw fear in her eyes, but it faded quickly, replaced by the same uncertainty he'd seen earlier in the evening.

"Did you need something?" She asked in a tone to match.

"Show me everything."

Her brows furrowed and whether she was aware of it or not, Maria began to tug her blanket higher on her body, shielding herself from him. Eric couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"That's not what I meant." He told her with an exasperated sigh.

It took a moment, but only a moment for understanding to cross her face. He saw her relax her arm so the blanket could fall back into place, but the rest of her remained tense. He understood, he just didn't like it. She didn't give him a choice in the matter, forced him to share what he didn't want to share, so part of him thought she shouldn't really have a choice, either. Turnabout is fair play, as they say.

The longer she went without answering him, the more annoyed he became with the situation. Minutes passed before he noticed her shoulders fall and her head dip. Regretful acquiesces was an easy thing to notice in a person. It was very similar to simply giving up.

Maria threw the blanket off her legs and rose. She approached him, still exuding nothing but reticence and (he was sure) regret.

"Sit," she said as she pointed at the bed.

Eric did as she asked. He had no reason not to if it meant he would get what he wanted.

Maria stood in front of him, almost between his knees. She was close, closer than he would have liked ordinarily, but it made sense when she reached out. Eric forced himself to remain still as she cradled his head in her now-bare hands even though his first instinct was to shift away.

She looked directly into his eyes. "I've only done this twice before and I was a child then."

"How old?"

"Eleven."

His brows creased slightly. "Does that matter?"

She took a deep breath and slowly released it before she said, "A lot's happened to me since then and if it's the same as when I see someone else's past…you're going to feel it, too."

A wave of apprehension swept through Eric strong enough he moved back and out of her grasp. Maria lowered her hands and simply stared at him. His mind swam. For the first time since deciding to even out their "relationship", he wasn't certain.

Eric eyed her sternly and weighed his options before deciding to proceed. When he sat in his original position again, Maria once more placed her hands on the sides of his face. He reasoned that there was no way anything she'd experienced in her short life could compare to his own. He had nothing to fear.

She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Eric couldn't tell if she was concentrating, but assumed she had to be.

Seconds ticked by that surely turned to minutes, and nothing happened. He felt himself scowl. Whatever she was doing wasn't-

Eric was suddenly thrust into a world that he'd never been in before. It was flashes, all flashes and a bevy of emotions that made him sick to his stomach they were so strong. It was seconds and lifetimes all at once.

It was overwhelming to say the least, but there was a constant throughout it all. Three emotions, stronger than any he'd ever felt before, surrounded him: pain, loneliness, and fear. So much fear.

When Maria removed her hands, she took a step back. He barely registered the action. Eric's mind still swirled with images and feelings. They were jumbled and out of sync, but there, and unwilling to be ignored.

"Now we're even."

Her voice drew his eye. Maria stared back at him unsurely, but with that ever-present sadness in her eyes. He didn't know if she was waiting for him to say anything or not, but he didn't. He couldn't, and instead rose, and left her room.

Eric went to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. For some reason he looked to his hands and saw them shaking. Whatever she'd done to him affected him physically.

His regret was instant.

* * *

Maria awoke a few hours after Eric had waken her up. She dressed, readied herself for the day, and left, casting his bedroom door a glance as she did. There was no denying the transfer worked, but she hoped he couldn't make sense of it. To put everything in order, you had to concentrate. It wasn't as though there was order when someone's memories were gleaned. That took effort, effort she prayed he didn't want to put into it. She hoped he thought she wasn't worth it. She wished she could use his feelings towards her as a guide since she'd taken those from him, too, but she couldn't. They were complicated and if he didn't even know how he felt about her, how could she?

Maria hit up a Target, Wal-Mart, and a Mattress Firm for everything she needed. She thanked God for delivery most days, but it was actually cheaper for her to rent a damn U-Haul and do it herself. The amount of money those assholes wanted from her to take shit to her house was ridiculous, and she'd have to pay it for three different businesses. No. Hell no.

There was something therapeutic about unpacking things in a new house. She had nothing of her own to add to her new possessions, but it didn't truly matter. The feeling was the same and it helped her. It gave her something small to focus on and a sense of accomplishment when towels were neatly folded over the towel racks, or when her toiletries were in place. She felt a nice warm feeling in her chest when each of the three beds was assembled and fresh linens were stretched over the mattresses.

She bought no couch, or chairs, or tables of substantial size, but she purchased curtains and end tables, a pair for each bed, and one for the entryway near the door. And to cope with the fact that she wouldn't have electricity for a while, Maria bought a surprising amount of candle sconces and candle holders for the tabletops. She was sure they were all things she'd keep once electricity was turned on, though. Maria didn't spend money frivolously.

Maria was a wealthy young woman. There were many treasures that she and her family squirreled away when they saw how things had begun to turn back in Russia. The world thought all of it was sewn into their clothing when they died, but it wasn't. They had two caches of valuables buried in the woods outside their family homes, caches that were untouched when she got to them. Because of those and what she was wearing, Maria didn't have to worry about money so long as she wasn't stupid with it.

When she had finally finished her day-long venture of decorating her house, Maria sat on her bed and looked around her room. It was large with big windows, double doors that led to the balcony, and one of the six fireplaces that were in the house. Hers, along with the ones upstairs, were all faux and had no actual chimney despite how beautifully-tiled they were, but the addition of even more candles made them look quite lovely.

For a short moment, Maria thought she might be able to make an actual home in the turn-of-the-century farmhouse.

After enjoying herself for a little while, reveling in her accomplishments, Maria had only to retrieve her clothes from Northman's place, and she'd be finished. Though, perhaps first, a shower. She thanked God that the water heater had not only survived however many years the house laid dormant, but that it ran on gas and gas was a utility that they'd easily turned on. At least her shower would be warm.

* * *

The sun had set. Maria made her way through her house with a long wooden, lit match in her hand. She lit her candles as she went, bringing them to life and giving her home a soft glow. Given she and her soon-to-be guests weren't human, the lack of brilliant light would be enough.

She was upstairs lighting the candles in one of the guest bedrooms when there was a knock at the door. Maria didn't expect company that night, not really, but it didn't entirely surprise her, either. The fact was, she knew Northman had her invite Pam into her house because it was meant to protect her. So, it bore to reason that sometime soon, Pam would come over.

When the last candle was lit, she blew out the match and headed for the front door. When she opened it, Pam did indeed stand on the other side, but she wasn't alone. Eric stood a foot or two behind her, still on the step that led to the covered porch.

Pam arched a brow as she pushed past Maria. "You don't have electricity, do you?" She spun fancifully on her heel and stared down her nose at Maria.

"Nope," Maria replied with a tiny smirk.

Pam sighed loudly and obnoxiously while Maria turned her attention back to Eric. He'd approached the front door, but didn't enter. Instead, he loomed over her with his hands behind his back and his head down slightly so he could look at her through his lashes. Sometimes, Maria wondered if he did that to appear more innocent than he was.

She met his stormy grey eyes and her stomach flipped. He was blank as usual. She should have been used to it, but she almost begged for a sign of something else. Maria wanted to know if he managed to sort through the memories she gave him, or if they were still a jumbled mess of noise. She still prayed it was the latter. He didn't have the skills she'd developed throughout her life to organize that kind of chaos, but he was so old that she didn't doubt he could if he wanted to.

"May I come in?" He asked.

It was only then that Maria realized a noticeable amount of time had passed. She nodded.

"Come in," She said.

He brought one of his long legs through the threshold and stepped into her house with ease. He looked around, though there wasn't much to really see. Still, he examined what little he was given with a cocked brow and a bemused expression she didn't understand.

"It almost looks like the Charax estate." He said casually.

Maria's brows tugged together. She turned in her spot as she closed the door and looked around.

_Perhaps a little_, she reasoned. The majority of the rooms had ornate wallpaper, albeit faded, and dark wood paneling that rose to roughly waist high. The spindles on the staircase were ornate as well, and there were some other details, too, long-neglected though they may be.

It was only then that she realized that was why she felt so comfortable in the haunted-looking house. It must have been. It reminded her of one of her family's summer houses in Crimea.

A shard of ice suddenly stabbed at Maria. Her eyes widened as they slowly focused on a now-smirking Eric Northman. He just referenced something from her past, something that was deeply personal to her. True, he could have Googled the information, but it didn't feel that way. He had managed to pluck something out of the ocean of memories she'd given him. She felt uneasy.

"Where the hell am I sleepin'?"

For once, Maria thanked Pam for something because she managed to snap her out of her delirium and gave her the ability to act.

"Up here," Maria said under her breath.

She shimmied past Eric without meeting his gaze again and guided the pair upstairs. She showed Pam to her room first since it was the first door they'd reached. The blonde was about as enthusiastic about it as Maria expected her to be, but that was nothing compared to how Pam reacted when she heard there was only one bathroom.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me." She growled.

Maria only rolled her eyes as she crossed the hall to Eric's room. She didn't know why Pam was so upset. It wasn't as though vampires used bathrooms beyond taking baths or getting ready for the night out, and Maria highly doubted Pam would be taking a leisurely soak in her tub.

"And this is yours," She said as she opened the door and stepped through. It had the bare essentials, too, though there was little one could truly add to a bedroom. "Blackout curtains, too, so you don't have to worry about the sun. It's the same throughout most of the house, actually, so there won't be any stray light."

Eric walked by her and stood in the center of the room near the foot of the bed. He spun lazily until he faced her once again and met her dancing stare. Maria had trouble meeting his gaze for more than a second or two.

"Thank you." He told her with a level of sincerity that made her scowl a little. That sincerity didn't stop her from being a bit sarcastic, though. It was her defense when confronted with such an uncomfortable situation.

"It's why you bought me a house in the first place, isn't it?"

He arched a brow and tilted his head marginally to the side, as though he was internally agreeing with her before wiping the expression from his face almost as quickly as it appeared.

"But it _is_ yours." He told her. He grasped his hands behind his back and approached her slowly. "I have no intention of taking it back at any point. This house is yours, and yours alone."

Her brows furrowed as she stared at him skeptically. Thankfully, he seemed to sense her discomfort with the entire situation and chose to change the subject.

"I have some things to do tonight, but I'll be back before dawn."

"Okay," Maria wasn't sure what he expected her to say.

Eric gave her a nod, then disappeared. She heard the front door close a moment later and she knew that he was gone. He likely flew off to wherever.

When Maria turned around to leave his room, she was instantly confronted with Pam. She never heard the blonde sneak up on her, let alone get as close as she was. The vampire stood less than arm's length away and Maria hadn't felt it. Just further proof to how unsettled Eric left her.

"I s'pose it's too much to ask that there's anything to eat around here." She asked in her typically smooth voice.

"No."

Pam sighed and the annoyance in her expression deepened. "Didn't think so. Do me a favor, will ya?" It may have been a question, but Maria was well aware that it wasn't a real request. "Go bring me somethin' to eat."

She scowled. "No," Maria said again.

"You really are almost useless, aren't you?" Pam rolled her eyes and shifted her weight on her feet. "Well, then it looks like you're comin' with me back to Fangtasia."

"Why?"

"For some TruBlood." Pam began to sound exasperated. "I'm not going to carry it, and there needs to be _somethin'_ under this damn roof for us to drink. Even if it's that swamp sludge. Now, come on," Pam turned on her heel and headed for the stairs before adding, "You can grab our coffins, too."

Maria clenched her jaw and growled deeply within her throat. She didn't work for Pam, so she didn't appreciate being ordered around, but Maria knew the blonde wasn't wrong. A ration of blood in the house and their coffins would be a good idea if they had to stay indefinitely.

* * *

It was roughly ten-thirty or so that night as Maria loaded the back of a stolen pickup truck with two cases of TruBlood and a pair of travel coffins. She found out while there that Eric's business consisted of sequestering himself from the world. Fangtasia wasn't open, so his office offered the perfect amount of silence that he seemed to crave. She understood, but was still surprised to see him in there when she retrieved the cases from the back, walking past his open door in the process.

"Maria," he said when she'd made it a few yards from his door.

She paused and backtracked, standing in the doorway to look in on him. She'd never get used to hearing him say her name.

He rose from his seat and approached her again, still looking the contemplative vampire he had the last time she'd seen him.

"Stay at Pam's side for me."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

Eric didn't immediately offer an answer. Instead, his gaze drifted from hers. It danced or a moment, moving slowly and gradually around the space as he either tried to think of a reason, or simply force himself to say it aloud. When he did speak, she knew it was the latter.

"I'd feel better if you were at her side."

Maria tried, albeit briefly, to hide her surprise. As before in her house, she was left mumbling an uncertain, _okay_ because she felt obligated to respond, but had no idea how. The simple, single-syllable word was the best she could manage then and now.

But there was something, something she both did and didn't want to know the answer to. It was a question that repeated itself over and over in the back of her mind, a small voice that refused to be ignored.

"How…" She clenched her jaw. Almost immediately, Maria wished she could take it back, but her word brought instant focus to Northman.

"Yes?" He asked when she didn't continue.

Maria forced herself to. "How much have you sifted through?" His brows furrowed slightly. She elaborated. "From my memories."

His face relaxed with understanding. She genuinely prayed he said that he only knew the house reference and that it came to him, that he didn't actually separate it from the mess. She wasn't so lucky.

"Small things." He told her. "For example, that little trinket there," He motioned toward her necklace, the one with the feline-esque pendant that he'd forbade her from wearing around her neck, but she still wore as a bracelet. "Was a gift from your father when you turned sixteen."

Her jaw tensed. He was right. The truth of what she was had become evident when she was a very little girl, but when she turned sixteen, she was considered a woman and as a gift, he gave her something to symbolize what she was. She adored it more than words could express, and she kept it with her always. Since the emotional attachment to the object was so strong, it made sense that it stuck out in the chaos.

"And," Eric approached her with slow, languid steps. His long legs carried him the distance between them easily. "I know why you wake up screaming."

She flinched and her eyes immediately watered. Maria clenched her jaw so tightly she wondered if she would fracture her jawbone or crack a tooth. She couldn't express the feelings coursing through her. Fear, embarrassment, shame, and everything in between surged.

Eric stood one, maybe two feet from her, so close she could feel the coolness of his skin. He looked down at her and no matter how badly she wanted to look away, she couldn't help but stare directly into his stormy, unblinking eyes.

"I am sorry for what he did to you." He said. It amazed her how his voice remained toneless, yet she somehow felt his sincerity. "The experiments, the mutilations, the magic," His voice was soft, but the words hit her harder than any shout or yell might. Maria began to tremble. She tried to keep still, to tense her muscles to keep them from shaking, but it didn't matter. "He's still alive, isn't he? Rasputin is still alive."

Maria blinked and felt tears trickle down her heated cheeks. On a breath, she replied, "Yes."

Something dangerously close to empathy flashed in his eyes, but she was too distraught to say anything about it.

As she looked up at him, struggling to keep from breaking completely, Eric reached forward. He brought the back of his curled index finger across her cheek, and down the tear's trail. It was so cold against her heated skin that it felt like it burned. It burned the same way a person's nose or ears might when they spend hours out in the cold, wintery air before going inside.

"You're safe with me." He told her as he wiped the last tear from her cheek. "So long as I'm around, he won't hurt you."

She shook her head lightly, "You don't know what he is."

"It doesn't matter." Eric grinned arrogantly. "I'm a scarier monster than he is."

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. "No, you're not."

Eric's face fell in an instant. As he remained both silent and unreadable, Maria decided to simply leave. She didn't know what else to do, so she walked away.

Outside, Maria loaded the truck as she had intended. After piling everything into the bed, securing it, and making sure the tarp covered it all, she paused. Without hesitation, Maria began to sob.

* * *

Ten minutes or more had passed before she managed to compose herself again. Wrapping herself in the thickest blanket of uncaring that she could, Maria returned inside. Pam had been sitting at the bar and arched a brow when Maria took a seat at one of the empty tables, leaned back, and propped her feet on the table top.

"I know this concept might be foreign to you, but once ya have what you came to get, you take it home." She said with such thick sarcasm, Maria briefly wondered how she didn't choke on it.

"Northman wants me to stay with you."

Her eyes narrowed out of annoyance as she shifted in her seat to better face Maria. And then, a wicked grin twisted her full, painted lips.

"Does that mean you're mine, now?" She all but cooed the words.

"No," Maria said as though it should have been obvious. "It means he wants me at your side."

Her agitation seeped through again. "Why?"

"I don't know." It was Maria's turn to be derisive and sarcastic. "Maybe he wants you to use me as a shield if Edgington shows up?"

Pam scoffed a small laugh. With nothing further to say, she returned to the drink she'd poured herself while Maria had been working.

The clock nearly reached midnight, and Maria was bored when the door to Fangtasia swung open. She only briefly wondered why the damn thing was unlocked until she saw _who_ had entered. Phantom hackles quickly rose and her body began to vibrate.

"Sookie," Pam sneered. She seemed as glad to see the blonde as Maria was. "Good to see you. Get out."

"Where's Eric, Pam?"

Sookie was demanding and coarse, holding an air of superiority that Maria considered wholly unfounded. There was no reason for her to be acting so high-and-mighty, and Maria knew it.

"We're a little busy here, so why don't you go run along now, hm?"

Sookie glared at her and shot Maria a glance when she noticed movement. Maria had risen to her feet and slowly joined Pam's side. She wanted to be sure to keep Sookie in her line of sight, and she didn't want to be in such a weak position. Sitting would make her seconds slower. Maria needed to be on her feet, ready to attack

The feelings coursing through her were so primal that Maria was temporarily blinded by them. Rationally, she knew there was no way Sookie could gain the upper hand, but it didn't matter. It was the Fae in the bitch that Maria was unwilling to give a chance.

Sookie looked at Pam again. "I need to talk to him."

"I don't care." Pam replied as she glided to her feet. "Your fairy super-snatch might work on him, but I don't like you, so you should go."

Sookie's jaw flexed and tensed. A moment later, she turned sharply and headed for the door to the backroom. Maria was on her in an instant, appearing in the girl's path so quickly that she jumped.

Her hand shot out and wrapped around Sookie's throat. The blonde choked and gasped as she stared up at Maria with wide eyes. Maria had to admit she rather liked the feeling of power, the undeniable knowledge that she could snap Sookie's neck so easily –like a piece of dried spaghetti. And Sookie knew it, too. The fear in her eyes told Maria so.

A low, threatening growl echoed in Maria's throat, that deep, terror-inducing sound a wild animal made before it struck. She flexed her fingers just a bit while Pam giggled in the background.

"Pam asked you to leave." Maria told her, her voice laced with that same growl. "So you should leave."

Sookie clawed at Maria's forearm in a weak attempt to pry it away. She choked out, "It's important."

In the distance, Pam sighed. She rose and approached the pair with her heels narrating each step. Soon, she stood beside Maria and glared down at the blonde.

"I can't stand you." She told Sookie bluntly. "You're entitled, annoying, and for some reason, everybody just _loves_ you, and as much as I would enjoy watching Maria here rip you apart," Pam leaned a little closer and smirked, "And I _would_ enjoy it," Her smile faded. "I know the shit-storm it'd bring down, and I'm not in the mood." She looked at Maria. "Let her go."

Maria's jaw clenched. Every muscle in her body struggled with the fact that she wanted to kill the waitress, but for the briefest of seconds, her rational mind won out. Pam was right.

Maria let Sookie go and relished in the coughs she let out. As she steadied her breath, the blonde looked up at her with so much rage that it could possibly shake her little body apart. Maria thought it was funny.

"The fuck is your problem?" Sookie hissed angrily, though her voice was a touch broken.

Maria said nothing, afraid that if she tried to even speak, she'd lose control and shift. That was the last thing she wanted to do at that moment, so she simply walked back to her table and sat down. Sookie glared at her before shoving her way into the back room. Pam followed, but not before casting Maria a proud smile.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN:** Enjoy!

**Chapter 17**

Eric emerged from the backroom roughly ten minutes after Sookie disappeared into it with Pam. They argued, and Maria wasn't surprised. She did her best not to say anything because she agreed with Pam wholeheartedly. They _should_ hand Sookie over and let her die. And yet, for some reason, Eric was unwilling. Although, if she was being honest with herself, Maria knew why. She knew what Pam didn't, and while it helped her understand, it angered her just as much as his progeny.

After Pam stormed away, Eric turned his attention to Maria.

"I need to speak with you." He said before he simply walked outside. Maria arched a brow. Evidently, he expected her to follow, and part of her was a little annoyed that she did.

When she made her way outside, she found him standing just beyond the awning, not quite in the parking lot, but not far from it. He stood in ¾ profile to her so she could see only a glimpse of his face. The metal, weighted door slammed shut behind her with a loud clack, but Eric didn't move. He didn't even speak for a minute or two, despite what he said. It drew on her patience to the point she said something.

"I agree with Pam."

She noticed his brows flinch just before he shifted to face her completely. He seemed surprised, though she didn't understand why. Perhaps it was because of _who_ she said she agreed with.

Maria moved past it.

"You need to hand her over."

His expression hardened, but she wasn't afraid of it.

"I know how you feel about her, but-"

He suddenly lunged for her, standing so close that his chest nearly touched hers. His fangs were out.

"I feel _nothing_ for her."

Maria took a step back because she was unwilling to crane her neck so completely just to speak with him, not because he'd frightened her.

"That'd be a more convincing lie with anyone else." She told him. "But I've been in your head." He flinched. "And I doubt anything's changed in the last couple days." He scoffed, turned his back to her, and took a few steps away.

"You know nothing." He said calmly.

"I know it's primal, how you feel about that thing." She said. Eric glowered at her description of Sookie, but that was how she felt about the waitress. "It's visceral, and I know that _you_ don't even play into it. The vampire wants her."

"I'm not some base animal." He growled.

"Yes you are!" She snapped back. "Jesus Christ, you fucking vampires think you're so evolved, but you're not. You're animals just like the rest of us supes. You people think you're above everything else because you're immortal, but you're not! You're dead! You're a reanimated corpse! Basically, vampires are just sexy zombies. That's it. And the _second_ you were infected and died, you became an animal, driven by instincts like the rest of us, and _that's_ what's clouding your brain." Maria took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. She relaxed as much as she could as she stared back at the towering Viking. "It's her blood you want."

He flinched again, which she thought was odd, but ignored. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't," She said softly. "Don't try to make it sound like I'm making this up. I'm not, and you know it." Maria took a step toward him and tried to exude nothing but sincerity when she said, "You want to protect her because you want to feed on her. You want to keep her for yourself and not share, but that desire and need, it's going to kill you. There are two basic instincts that no animal can fight: self-preservation and food. Give. Her. To. Russell. And wash your hands of it all."

"I can't do that."

Maria's chest tightened. She wanted to continue being upset, but she couldn't be. Again, she'd been in his head and felt what he felt about Sookie. She knew how deep his desire was for her, she'd just hoped he would've been smart.

"Then use her as bait. Chain her to a stake in the middle of a field and lure the monster."

He stared at her curiously. Maria shrugged a shoulder.

"Worked in Jurassic Park."

Eric smiled an amused, disbelieving smile and shook his head at her. For some reason, she grinned internally. She was a little proud of that remark.

Silence came again, but it wasn't as tense as before. At least, not at first. When Eric faced her completely once more, Maria's stomach sank. The amusement was gone and seriousness had returned.

"I need you to go home." He told her bluntly.

"What?"

He approached her again, but slowly –calmly. She seemed to have taken the fight from him, or the situation did.

"I need you to go home. You'll be safe there."

"You're going to need help." She was surprised by her willingness to remain, but it was there regardless.

"I have Pam and you're a distraction."

Her brows furrowed and she narrowed her eyes at the odd statement.

"I'm not going anywhere." Maria's voice was firm. "Edgington needs to die."

He looked at her softly, almost sympathetically, and with something that looked suspiciously like admiration, though she doubted it.

"And I'm going to do what I can to make sure that happens, but you won't be here to see it." He said. Maria opened her mouth to speak, to interject again, but she wasn't given the chance. She was almost immediately silenced when she felt the pull of his glamor. It consumed her in an instant. "Go home. Sleep if you want, but go home and don't step foot outside until there's sunlight."

When the feeling left her, Maria reacted violently. She punched Eric in the face, hard. His head snapped to the side and he was forced to take a balancing step, but he said nothing about it. Instead, he simply looked at her.

"God damn it." She hissed angrily under her breath as his command took hold.

Whether she wanted to or not, Maria's feet began to carry her to the truck she'd once loaded everything into. He watched her get into the cab, slam her door, and start the engine.

"Cheer up, Miss Romanov." He said, drawing her attention. "By morning, you may very well be a free woman."

A shard of ice pierced her heart. It was an unexpected sensation that spread throughout her body quickly.

Silent and unsure of what she'd say anyway, Maria pulled out of the parking lot. She cast Eric Northman a parting glance in her rearview mirror that lasted only seconds before he sailed into the air and disappeared completely.

* * *

Maria spent the remainder of the night walking in circles, literally. She'd begun pacing, but around the entirety of her first floor –one large circle. But the instant the sky turned bright and the smell of dew hit her nostrils, she threw open her front door and ran for Fangtasia. Maria was fast, not vampire-fast, but she could make headway much quicker than most other supes, and she didn't trust herself to drive.

Miles flew beneath her feet as she headed back to the club. A pit –empty, hallow, and ravenous- had formed in her gut long ago, and the longer she went without knowing what happened at Fangtasia, the worse it became.

Her chest ached and the bitterly cold morning air burned her nose, but she pressed on. Northman couldn't die. There was no other way about it –Eric Northman couldn't die. He said he'd keep her safe, that he'd protect her from Grigori. He couldn't do that if he was a puddle of goo.

She wasn't willing to let him back out of their bargain.

When Maria rounded the corner and emerged in the Fangtasia parking lot, what she saw made her freeze. Two bodies laid on the concrete in full view of the morning sun. Sookie stood over them screaming at Edgington while Eric, told her to leave them alone to die. Maria's sudden appearance shocked the waitress who stared at her with wide eyes, but Maria barely noticed.

Suddenly running on instinct, Maria charged for the pair. She didn't hesitate to grip the handcuffs keeping them bound and snap the thin center chain.

"Leave me!" Eric shouted the words, but they were weak.

"Shut up," she hissed.

Maria grabbed his arm and used it to throw him over her shoulder. She headed for the door and was more than willing to kick it down when Sookie appeared in her path. The blonde opened it quickly, allowing the pair to enter. Maria didn't bother thanking her.

"Put him here." Pam said as she shoved a leather bench away from the wall and to the middle of the room.

Maria did as she was beckoned and laid Eric down as gently as she could with Pam's help. The Viking was trembling almost violently and gasping for breath.

"He isn't healing." Pam said in a panic. "He's too weak to drop fang."

"Bite me," Sookie told Bill when she presented him with her wrist.

"What?" He seemed shocked.

"Bite me."

A twinge of a foreign emotion swept through Maria and guided her actions. While Bill took Sookie's arm in hand, Maria bit the finger of her glove, tugged it off sharply, and dug her exposed thumbnail into her other wrist. It pierced through her flesh with ease. She put the open wound to Eric's mouth and simply waited.

"Here, Er-" Sookie's words were instantly cut short when she turned around and saw what was already happening. "Oh," She muttered.

Through her lashes, Maria stared at the blonde who shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Sookie kept her chin up and tried her best to act as though it didn't bother her, but it did. Maria could smell her disappointment and it brought a very real grin to her lips.

Perhaps a minute later, Eric's fangs finally pierced into Maria's wrist. She bit back a short hiss of pain, but ignored it in favor of watching the scorch marks and char leave his skin. Seconds later, he appeared to be back to normal and even opened his eyes. She felt instant relief.

"Thank you," he said when he let her go. Maria offered a nod and before he snapped his fangs back into place, Eric nicked a finger and smeared his blood over the wound to heal it. She gave him another silent thanks.

Her relief, however, was brief. Not milliseconds after he stood, Eric told the room Russell needed to be brought inside. He told Maria to fetch him, but she blatantly refused, and that seemed to be all the prompting Sookie needed. In fact, the waitress leapt at the chance a little too quickly considering the vampire she was meant to get. Maria wondered if she'd done it to be useful, or because she wanted to do something (anything) for Eric. It could have been both, really.

Whatever the real reason was, Sookie retrieved a pair of chains that were sitting nearby and proceeded to drag the ancient block of talking charcoal back into the shade of Fangtasia. Meanwhile, Eric had retrieved a pair of latex gloves and took the chain from her afterwards. He quickly lifted Edgington onto one of the stripper platforms and wrapped the chain around the pole.

"Eric, who the fuck are you right now?" Pam snapped. "He killed your family. Rip his fucking head off."

"She's right." Maria said.

"Not now." He told them both sternly.

"At least get a potato peeler and skin him. Something!" Maria shouted. "Cut off his limbs and throw them in the sun."

Surprised gazes drifted to her, but Maria stared only at Eric. Vampires could regrow a lot of things, but she was fairly certain arms and legs weren't amongst them. He needed to make Russell Edgington nothing but a torso and a head.

"Well, well, well," Eric practically cooed the words. "Look who's suddenly deliciously bloodthirsty?" Maria crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her stare at him. She meant what she said. "As fun as that would be, I do have my own plans for him." After securing the chains completely, Eric tugged off his latex gloves. "I need the two of you to stay here and watch him." He motioned to Sookie and Maria.

"No." They said in unison.

"He can't glamor you." He told Sookie before he looked at Maria. "And you're strong enough to control him if the need arises."

"I'm not watching this freak." Sookie hissed.

"And I'm not staying in a room with that." She blatantly pointed at the waitress. Everyone noticed, but only Bill and Sookie were offended by it.

"Hey!" Sookie snapped as she charged toward the dark-haired young woman. Maria glared at her. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you better back off." Sookie said as meanly as she could manage. "Look, I'm sorry I shot you, okay? But, I've been tryin' my best to be nice to you and you're nothing but a bitch back and I'm not gonna take it anymore."

"Back off before I eat you, fairy." Maria opened her mouth and let loose an angry, hateful, feral hiss that physically shook the little blonde. She looked back to Eric. "You know why I can't be around a fucking fairy. I showed you why."

But a flash of something in his eyes told her that no, he didn't. In spite of everything he'd already gleaned from her, Eric hadn't actually sorted through enough to know anything that personal. For some reason, regardless of the company, Maria flat-out told him. Perhaps she was simply desperate for him to know so he wouldn't make her stay in the same room as Sookie. Her scent alone was offensive, not to mention her overall personality. Maria didn't want to spend hours with her.

"We were their pets." She told him. "For thousands of years we were those monsters' guard dogs, shackled and chained and kept on leashes, and bred specifically for _their_ benefit." She pointed and angry finger at Sookie to instill her point. "They made thropes, all thropes, because they wanted protection."

"From what?" He asked calmly.

Maria looked his up and down and motioned to the room. "Vampires."

She noticed the shock, but it was true. They couldn't honestly be that surprised given how much they all wanted to eat Sookie. Of course her ancestors would have done whatever they could to protect themselves, but just because she understood the reasoning didn't mean Maria cared.

Maria approached Eric and with a softer voice said, "Don't make he sit here all day and protect another one of those fairy fucks. Please."

Eric didn't immediately offer an answer, though he seemed to take a few things into account as he looked at her, Russell, and Sookie. A minute passed, maybe two, before he turned his attention back to the young woman practically begging for him to let her be anywhere else.

"I need you here." He told her finally. Maria's stomach sank. "Russell can't leave this building."

"Fine," Maria hardened herself, an easy task given how angry she was. "But if he tries to eat the fairy, I'm not going to stop him. I'll just make sure he doesn't set foot outside."

He didn't seem pleased, or surprised by what she'd said.

Eric returned his attention to the room and told Bill they had a spare coffin for him to sleep in. Compton tried to protest, but Sookie shot him down. She told all of the vampires in an exceedingly awkward way that she didn't want to look at any of them. To Maria, it sounded like the blonde was attempting to sound intimidating or strong. It came across as false and unnatural to Maria. She might as well have been a bad actress delivering her lines. That was how real they felt.

The vampires retired to the back. Maria turned her gaze on Sookie. The blonde crossed her arms over her chest, popped out her hip as she shifted her weight, and stared dead-set at Maria. The dark-haired young woman arched a disbelieving brow, scoffed, and took a seat on the bench Eric had once been lying on.

Her day was going to be a long one.

* * *

Sleep came in waves. The term "catnap" annoyed her for obvious reasons, but it was the only way to truly describe what she'd managed to accomplish. Maria had been awake for a long time, so her body naturally gave out periodically because it desperately needed the sleep, but every time it sensed Sookie moving, or the air shifted, the primal fear would rise again and she'd wake up.

Ginger had arrived about an hour ago and cleaned to ornate crystal vase that Talbot's guts had been stored in. Maria could appreciate what Sookie had done –shoving them down the disposal. It was a nice touch. Personally, Maria would have thrown them into the sun to watch them burn, but forcing Russell to watch as the love of his life was sucked down into the sewage system was a nice touch.

In the back corner, tucked behind the bar though still slightly visible were some booths and benches. Maria was lying on them with her back to the room, curled up and attempting to sleep again when the door opened and Ginger shrieked. Maria cringed.

"Stop screaming, Ginger!" She yelled back. "Jesus Christ, always with the screaming."

"Who's that?" Maria heard a deep, gruff male voice ask.

"Her name's Maria." Sookie said with a level of contempt Maria was sure was intentional. And then her voice turned much chipper than before. "How'd you know to come for me?"

Maria groaned and rolled her eyes despite them being closed. Sookie was flirting with the giant and somehow hurt by the fact that he wasn't there for her. Meanwhile, she openly swooned over both Eric and Bill whenever they were around. All Maria could think was, this blonde bitch needed to either make up her mind, or maybe not make it so obvious that she wanted to fuck every man she came into contact with. Maria wasn't against hooking up with men for fun and no-strings-attached, but Sookie just exuded desperation that physically turned Maria's stomach. Worse yet, her attitude and tactics seemed to genuinely work on the men around her.

To be fair, it wasn't a common thing to hear people speaking about a straight male's intelligence when it came to women. They were all rather stupid if sex was on the table.

An hour had passed since Alcide had arrived and Maria hadn't fallen asleep again. She didn't even drift. The room was filled with the scent of werewolf and fairy, and both stung her nose. The others, however, must have thought she was and decided to use that as a chance to talk about her.

"Hey," Sookie said in a whisper. Maria's hearing was too good for it to go unnoticed. "What's a thrope?"

"Why you askin' 'bout them?"

There was a pause and Maria knew that Sookie must have motioned in her direction in some way.

"Wait, you sayin' she's a thrope?" Alcide asked a little too excitedly. "What kind?"

"How many kinds are there?"

"Supposed to be lots." He said. "Lions, bears, jaguars, wolves- I mean, basically any four-legged predator has a thrope." Maria heard him shift in his seat, likely trying to look at her. "I ain't never met one before, though."

"Aren't they just like weres?"

"Nah," He said as he shifted once more. "They're bigger, stronger, and they ain't gotta worry 'bout the moon. Some people say they're our ancestors."

"Well, she doesn't like me very much."

"Why's that?"

"She said fairies made them and kept them as pets."

By then, Maria had enough. With a loud sigh, she rolled off the couch and glided to her feet. Running her fingers through her hair, she pulled it away from her face and saw both Sookie and Alcide looking at her.

"Maybe when you're talking about someone, make sure they don't have supernatural hearing, hm?"

Sookie instantly shied away, bringing her beer to her mouth and taking a sip as though it would somehow hide her. God, Maria wanted to tear into her.

As she neared the two, her eyes remained primarily on Alcide. He was a good-looking man, tall, large, and just plain attractive. He might have stunk like a dog, but that didn't bother her as much as it would other supes. Cats and dogs really wasn't a thing, at least not to her. Truth was, she could eviscerate a werewolf if she had to without much effort, so with that came the knowledge that there was no reason to fear him.

The fact that she was afraid of a five-foot-nothing semi-human and not the over-six-foot-tall werewolf wasn't lost on her.

"Hi," she said to him.

"Hey," Alcide replied as he looked her over, too. "Alcide Herveaux." When he offered his hand, she took it.

"Maria Romanova."

"Nice meetin' you."

"Well, my, my, my,"

Russell's cooing voice drew attention to him. He still looked like a charcoal briquette. It'd been hours and it didn't appear that he'd healed in the least. Apparently, sun damage was irrevocable without blood. Good to know.

He smiled as best he could with black teeth as he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real-life duchess in our midst." Maria clenched her jaw. "Although, with your mommy and daddy dead, s'pose that means you're the empress now. And what a _lovely_ kingdom it is, I'm sure."

His derision was thick so there was no mistaking the intent behind his words. As a result, Maria grabbed Alcide's half-empty beer bottle and threw it at him. It smashed against Russell's head, breaking apart and spreading the remaining alcohol all over him.

"Stop talking." She told him plainly.

Russell snarled at her, bearing his single fang as he did. She wasn't threatened.

"You're an empress?" Sookie asked, drawing Maria's eye.

"No," she said bluntly.

Without another word on the matter, Maria stepped behind the bar. She reached into the cooler and retrieved a new beer for Alcide given she'd broken his last one, and he thanked her for it. Maria gave a nod of acknowledgement, but nothing else. As she searched for something for herself to drink, Russell apparently hadn't finished his taunting.

"I miss the old days." Russell said. "Few countries had such beautifully ruthless leaders. Russia was special like that. Ivan was particularly wonderful." Maria scowled at him through her lashes. Ivan the Terrible was a sadistic fuck, and ten shades of crazy. Of course Edgington knew him. "Nobody had quite the same skill with torture."

"You should shut up." Alcide growled, but Russell didn't listen. He leveled his darkened, bloodshot eyes on Maria who refused to look away.

"I heard 'bout you, ya know. You and your sisters." He told her. Maria's hand tensed around the glass she was holding. "But you were his favorite." he actually let out a low, sultry groan that made Maria's stomach twist and bile rise in her throat. "You and me have a mutual friend."

"I doubt that."

Russell didn't even pause at her denial and simply continued with his taunts.

"He was obsessed with you." He scowled. "Seein' you now, can't figure out why myself, but he was such a wonderfully twisted soul, I had to help him out." Maria began to tremble. "Made sure he had all the tools to win his little l'vitsa."

Two things happened in an instant. One, the glass Maria had been holding shattered in her hand sending shards flying. And two, she climbed over the bar and launched herself at Russell before Sookie or Alcide knew what happened.

With a ferocious scream, she began to beat the vampire. Each hit landed with a fierce thud, echoing in the room. She hit him so hard, in fact, that Maria wondered briefly if his head would simply pop off. She hoped it did.

She was so lost in her rage that she didn't feel the arms around her that pulled her away. She only saw that her reach became shorter and shorter, unable to fully connect with the vampire she'd been berating seconds ago.

"Enough," Eric said sternly.

Maria, with her heart still pounding and her body shaking, went limp in his arms. It was only then that she realized he not only held her against his chest, but did so to the point she couldn't even touch the floor. She was, more or less, dangling in his grip.

"If I let you go," He said, "You can't hit him."

Her mind raced with a thousand ideas until, finally, she decided on one and nodded.

Eric slowly set her down and when her feet touched the floor, she didn't move. He seemed to be pleased with her restraint, though in truth it was barely there.

As Eric began to untie Edgington, Maria approached. He eyed her sternly, a silent warning for her not to overreact again.

"One thing." She said. "I won't beat him again. I promise."

She saw Eric measure his thoughts and weigh his options before, to her gratitude, he nodded. Maria reached forward and took the end of the chain he held. Eric didn't let go because he didn't want her to run off with Edgington. He was probably right to worry.

Maria looped her index fingers into the wide link and pulled until its seam gave way. When it had, she unthreaded it from the chain itself and stood in front of Russell. Without giving him a chance to react, Maria pried open his mouth. Russell spat and fought, but he was so weak compared to her, and Eric, wonderful Eric, held Russell's head still. He seemed to sense what her plan was and quickly helped her.

With his jaw wedged open wide, Maria practically shoved her hand down his throat before she let go of the silver link. It wasn't dissimilar to giving a dog a pill. Russell's instinct took over no matter how badly it pained him and he swallowed the link just for the ability to scream. She couldn't imagine how painful it was for him to feel a chunk of silver gliding down his throat only to settle in his gut.

Maria quickly clamped her hand over his mouth, but he continued to try and scream around it, writhing in pain and anguish.

"For the rest of your life," her voice shook, but she kept it strong, "However long that is, that piece of silver will burn you from the inside, and while it does, I want you to think of me."

She released his mouth and he began to scream again, but Maria only smiled. In fact, Eric and Pam were smiling, too.

"Very nice." Eric grinned. "Now, go home. Get some sleep."

She nodded. Eric, Bill, Sookie, and Alcide left shortly after.

"Well," Pam cooed when they were alone. "Aren't you creative?"

"I have my moments." She replied. "I'm going home. I'll see you later."

Pam waved her hand dismissively, and Maria left. On her way back to her house, she wanted to be surprised Edgington knew Rasputin, but she wasn't. Not really, at least. It made a sick sort of sense that all fucked up bastards knew one another, and it would explain a few things.

When she was young, a child, her father banished him from the family. Sometime later, her mother convinced him to let Grigori return to tend to her little brother. But, when Rasputin came back, he was different –wrong. After listening to Edgington, Maria suspected that their paths might have crossed during that time.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: **Looky, looky. Another chapter. Enjoy!

**Chapter 18**

It was roughly five in the morning when the knock on the front door woke her. Maria was tired, sore, and angry. She wasn't in the mood to deal with whoever was on the other side, especially since it was likely a tall blonde that exuded nothing but snark.

Another light trio of raps met her ears as she jogged downstairs.

"I'm coming." She grumbled.

When she reached the front door, she opened it without a thought as to who it might be, or what she was wearing. The instant she saw Eric staring down at her, Maria was suddenly well-aware that she had chosen to wear nothing but a loose shirt and panties to bed. Neither of which offered much concealment. She instantly began to tug on the hem of her shirt to pull it down as far as it could go. The inch or two it gave made her feel marginally better.

He grinned, clearly aware of what she was doing, but he didn't remark on it. And it was only when she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing on her porch that Maria realized Eric was filthy. Her brows furrowed as she looked him over.

"Is that cement?"

"It is," He replied casually. "May I come in?"

"Sure," She muttered. Maria stood aside and let the Viking enter, all the while wondering why he bothered to ask. He'd already been invited into her home before. He could, in theory, walk in without bothering to knock.

"I'd like to use your shower, if that's alright." He said as he spun lazily to face her again. Maria closed the door, still staring at him unsurely. "Pam's managed to clog the one at Fangtasia. I can't promise I won't do the same here, but I think her hair's to blame."

"Yeah, sure, but _why_ are you covered in cement?" She asked, speaking quickly because she knew he wasn't one for lingering.

"Bill," He said with little effort. "Up here, isn't it?"

Eric didn't wait for her confirmation as he jogged upstairs and into the bathroom. He closed the door and shortly after, she heard the water running. Maria scowled in his general direction. With a flick of her wrist, she locked her door once again, and returned to her bedroom where she could put on a pair of pants to cover herself. She wished she was surprised by the way he acted (asking permission while still thinking he was entitled regardless) but she wasn't. She'd grown accustomed to it.

* * *

Roughly forty-five minutes after he entered the bathroom, Maria heard the water stop. She'd lit a few candles to give them both some light, and had taken to standing on her balcony because she didn't know what to do with herself. It was uncomfortable having Eric under her roof. Pam was at least a buffer between them, the same as Fangtasia, but having him in her house with nothing else made her uneasy. It didn't even feel like this when she was living with him.

Maybe it was because she was a side-line sort of character in those scenarios? In many ways, even when living with Northman, Maria was a background decoration at most. But here, within these walls, she was in the foreground. This was _her_ territory, not theirs.

The floorboards creaked and caused Maria to turn just in time to see Eric enter her bedroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The heat that touched her cheeks was instant. He hadn't even bothered using it to dry off. His marble-white skin still glistened with water and his hair was still spun into damp tendrils. It was deliberate, an intentional choice meant to make her react. She scowled.

"Where are your clothes?" She asked, doing her best to remove anything from her voice that wasn't irritation.

He seemed to sense the truth, however, and smirked again. Her scowl deepened.

"Ruined, I'm afraid." He didn't sound overly put out by the fact. "You wouldn't happen to have anything that I could wear, do you?"

She arched a brow. "That would fit? No."

"Hm," He seemed to think over something briefly before arriving at a conclusion. "Then it looks like I'll have to sleep nude."

"Wait, what?"

Maria barely got the words out before Eric turned and dropped his towel as he exited her room. She caught a brief glimpse of Eric Northman's bare ass that stunned her into silence. She knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about when it came to his body. The few glances she'd seen were very, _very_ well maintained, but did he have absolutely no shame? Who, in their right mind, strips naked in someone else's house?

With cheeks flush and her body a few degrees warmer than before, Maria scampered to her bedroom door and closed it as quickly as she could. For some reason, even doing that made her feel safe –as though she were in danger from the naked man a few yards away.

She was so flustered, in fact, that Eric inviting himself to spend the day didn't even don on her.

* * *

Vampires didn't commonly dream, but it wasn't unheard of. Eric could almost count on a single hand how many times he'd dreamt something in the past decade.

Unfortunately, Eric –even asleep- was well aware that the dream he was experiencing wasn't his own, nor a dream. They were memories playing out in random order, and they belonged to Maria.

Because of the chaos surrounding Edgington, very little of Maria's memories had made it to the surface. His mind was already too divided, so the distractions were easy to ignore for the most part. Unfortunately, now, with his mind clear, they were beginning to seep in.

The dream started out nice, sweet even. He saw flashes of her family, of her sisters and brother. He saw her with her parents on vacation near the Black Sea. Eric felt the love that surrounded them and it made his heart ache for his own family, both his human family and his vampire family. It was so disturbingly pure that he wasn't certain how to process it, until the shadow emerged in the periphery.

There was no way to tell how old the memories were when the shadow appeared, but he knew Maria was young. It lingered in the distance at first, but slowly moved closer and closer. The monolithic figure soon stood at Maria's side.

Through her eyes, he remembered looking up at the towering figure in black robes, craning his neck to manage the task. He felt so small in comparison, a feeling exaggerated ten-fold when those eyes met his. On a gaunt, pale face covered with scraggly, unkempt hair, exuding a level of darkness that she had never experienced before were those eyes. They were cold, pale in color, and filled with malice. But they sparkled with life when they landed on the little girl.

The memories progressed, but no longer without the shadow. It didn't matter where the family was, the Man in Black was always there, always lingering and watching. The warmth and joy was gone. Eric never again experienced those feelings, and he felt hollow for it.

More flashes came and went, brief, but progressively worse. At first the shadow was content to remain at arm's length. Soon, it became a hand on the shoulder, a hand on the small of her back, or standing so close that even Eric could smell the alcohol, musk, and cigarette smoke that permeated his robes.

Maria never reacted, though. No matter how badly Eric shouted in his own mind for her to shove the man away, to fight and scream and flail, Maria never did. She was a Grand Duchess, after all, a little princess expected to be proper and polite, so she remained silent, even as the monster crept into the nursery she shared with her siblings at night.

But while it turned his stomach, while it made Eric sick and angry, it wasn't what finally threw him into the waking world. The cause of that was a great deal more violent.

The man Eric knew was the infamous Rasputin had chained Maria in a dark room. She was immobile, helpless, and crying out for help until her throat went hoarse. He stood over her with a knife in hand chanting something he couldn't understand. He was concentrating and not swayed in the least by her whimpering pleas.

Rasputin disappeared to somewhere out of sight behind Maria, and an instant later, while still chanting, Eric felt the blade tear into Maria's back. The sharp pain of it being dragged down her spine threw Eric up in bed. He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and eyes wild as he looked around the room.

Her phantom screams followed him into the real world.

When he managed to calm a bit, Eric laid in bed, bathed in darkness, staring at the ceiling. He breathed heavily through his nose, but refused to breathe through his mouth, as though it somehow proved he wasn't _that_ disturbed by the nightmare. But it was a lie. He was.

Eric remained motionless until he was certain nothing of the dream remained. When it was gone, he rose. Something compelled him to seek her out, though he wasn't certain why.

Without regard to his nudity, Eric opened his bedroom door. The hallway was dark enough he was safe and there, folded neatly outside his door on the floor, was a pair of pajama pants. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he lifted them. A tag hung from the waistband, illustrating that they were not only brand new, but large enough to fit him. Clearly, Maria had gone out to purchase a pair while he slept.

Still musing to himself, Eric humored her and slid them on. They were a bit short, but fit well enough.

Now clothed, Eric crossed the hall to Maria's bedroom door. It was directly across from his and as silently as possible, he opened it. He paused. The curtains in her room were thick, but not blackout like his, which allowed sparse beams of light to pierce the room. He avoided them carefully after plotting a path in his mind.

Maria's bed was on the wall adjacent the door, nestled between another pair of windows, and set up as though presenting her to him. He closed the majority of the distance between them before she came into view.

Without electricity, there was no air conditioning. The house was a bit drafty, but still warmer than even Eric liked. As a result, Maria had kicked the majority of her blankets off her body, forcing them to gather between her feet and the iron footboard of her bed. She was curled onto her side with her back exposed to him, once again wearing almost nothing. Eric freely ogled her bare legs, and scantily-clad backside as any straight man (with or without a pulse) would, until he noticed the tail end of a pink scar on her back. Her shirt was loose enough that it had gathered a bit, exposing some of her skin and with it the scar on her spine. In that moment, she was immediately transformed into that little girl in his mind.

Eric didn't know how long he stood there staring at her, reliving the nightmare he'd experienced over and over, but it was long enough that Maria moved. She let out a soft sigh, raked her fingernails against her bed, and curled into a smaller ball than before. A spark of fear that wasn't his tickled the back of his neck and he knew instantly that he wasn't the only one who would have a nightmare that day.

There was no hesitation on his part. Eric immediately crawled into bed behind her and wrapped himself around Maria's sweltering body like he had at Russell's mansion. To his surprise, Maria instantly relaxed. She molded against him and went still. Eric waited for a moment or two to see if the nightmare would be persistent, but it wasn't. It never resurfaced, so he allowed himself to relax as well.

As he drifted back to sleep, Eric would have liked to been able to lie to himself and say that he had no idea why he deliberately went out of his way to comfort Maria. He would have liked to pretend he was doing it to simply save himself from the inevitable fear he'd feel on her behalf, but it wasn't. He didn't even bother pretending that it was. Instead, Eric was fully aware that he was comforting Maria because he wanted to. He'd seen and experienced what she'd been through as a child and it touched a very dormant part of himself –his humanity.

Eric Northman's lingering humanity had been getting a thorough workout since Godric died. Things he never thought would happen had, and they tore at the emotions he'd spent a millennia suppressing. He didn't appreciate it, that was true, but just like in the hotel in Dallas, and Edgington's mansion, there was no one else to see them.

* * *

Maria's entire body was cool. She wasn't cold, necessarily. To the best of her memory, Maria couldn't think of the last time she was genuinely cold, but she was much cooler than she knew she should have been. It was one of those odd, random things that helped rouse her from her sleep.

Each of her senses was ticked quickly, like a row of dominos –each one falling into place after the previous.

First, she felt the temperature that made no sense in her otherwise warm house. Then, she felt the weight on her body. Shortly after that, she smelled the familiar scent of her soap and hair products, but somehow knew they weren't coming from her.

She opened her eyes and saw why instantly. Eric.

He was so close that she had to draw back just a little bit to better see him. The Viking was on her pillow facing her as he slept. Maria's eyes were wide. She couldn't help but blink repeatedly as though her eyes were somehow lying.

The rest of the situation came into focus quickly. The pressure on her body was his. He wasn't lying on her per se, but his body was angled against hers, overlapping with her right side enough that it was pressed into the mattress. His arm was draped across her body as well, but it was far more indecent than the rest of him. At some point, apparently, Eric had snaked his hand under her shirt and had wrapped it around her ribs just beneath her breast.

The embarrassed flush that she felt swept through her body immediately and raised its temperature quickly, canceling out any coolness she felt from him. This was too personal, too familiar for them, but she was frozen. Maria was so consumed with the awkwardness of the situation she found herself in that even though she knew she had to get up and move, there was a disconnect between her mind knowing it, and her body being able to comply.

As a result, she was stuck.

Maria clenched her jaw repeatedly, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the ceiling. The fact that it was in desperate need of a scrubbing and a coat of paint was an odd thought, but one that temporarily distracted her.

After lying in bed for untold hours (though in truth it was perhaps seconds) Maria rolled her head to the side. Eric couldn't have been six inches from her, so close she could feel his icy breath, and fully asleep. He was so peaceful and content that, despite knowing she shouldn't, Maria began to relax.

For whatever reason, she simply stared at him while he slept. His ashen hair was messy, tousled and twisted from sleeping. His face was completely at ease and, for the first time, she was able to actually appreciate it. Without him eying her or conscious, Maria was able to take a moment and admire him.

Eric Northman looked like he'd been sculpted from marble with skin as pale as possible. His nose was perfectly straight and slender. His cheekbones were defined and his jaw was sharp. He was a Scandinavian Adonis, which accounted for a great deal of his arrogant attitude. In some regards, it was well-founded.

She didn't know what compelled her, or why her body moved without her permission, but Maria found her arm rising. She reached over to Eric. The tips of her pointed fingernails tenderly trailed down the length of the side of his face, over his cheek and along his jawline. He didn't shift, and for whatever reason, she repeated the action. This time, however, she found herself tenderly cupping his jaw.

Maria gently ran her thumb across his skin. It was an odd sensation for more than a few reasons. It'd been decades since she'd touched someone without fear, since she'd been able to do so without wearing her gloves. That was a benefit of the horrible ordeal of touching someone, though. Once Maria gleaned everything they had to show, it never happened again. Maria had to physically try to read their memories after first contact. If she didn't want to, she could touch them like a normal person.

Eric's lips parted as he took a breath. Any movement from the dead man shocked Maria into stillness. She gradually withdrew her hand, but was sure to do it so slowly it couldn't possibly wake him. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up and see her in what she considered a compromising position.

That was how she viewed anything emotional between them, and she was sure he was the same.

Eric continued to breathe deep before releasing it in a long sigh. He shifted, buried his face further into the pillow, and pulled Maria closer. She let out a subdued squeak of surprise and a small grunt as he squeezed her close. When he finally settled once more, heat filled her face again. The hand that was wrapped around her ribs, the one nestled just beneath her breast, was moving. His thumb was stroking her skin. Her heart thundered and it was then that Maria decided it was time to end their little slumber party.

She rolled her head to the side to face him again, and leaned back to put more distance between them before she spoke.

"Eric," She said. He didn't immediately respond. A bit louder and sterner, Maria repeated, "Eric,"

"Hm," He mumbled. Maria didn't know if he was aware or not, but she proceeded like he was.

"You're in my bed."

"Hm?" His brows creased slightly before he opened his eyes. It took only a brief moment before he seemed to remember where he was. She knew when he did because he smirked at her. "Good evening."

Maria clenched her jaw. Eric adjusted himself a little more, though made no attempts to let her go. When he went still again, Maria cleared her throat and drew his eye.

"_Why_ are you in my bed?"

"You were about to have another nightmare, so I came to comfort you." He grinned when she stiffened.

"Are… are you still naked?" It was only then that she realized she hadn't bothered to check.

His smile widened even more, until she could see his perfect teeth. Eric arched a single brow. "Would you like me to be?"

That was her limit. With a huff, Maria shoved Eric off of her body and stood. She stared down at him angrily with her hands on her hips. It was stupid. She knew he wasn't intimidated by her, but she still felt oddly compelled to take a stance that denoted some sort of strength.

"Why are you such a lech?"

"I enjoy it." He replied freely.

"Well… stop it. And get up." She kicked her mattress, jostling the vampire on top. "Isn't there stuff to do?"

Maria could tell he was weighing his options. As he looked her up and down, she did her best to appear stronger than she felt. He rattled her, but she didn't want him to know despite being fairly certain he did.

After a moment or two, Eric agreed with her and rose to his feet. He strolled casually out of her room, telling her to be at Fangtasia by ten o'clock. Shortly after, she heard the front door open and close, and she knew that he was gone. When he was, Maria finally allowed herself to relax. She let out a huff as she fell onto her bed again.

"Jerk," She mumbled to herself.

* * *

It was roughly two in the morning when the door to Fangtasia burst open. It surprised those there because the club had been completely dead. After Edgington's rampage on national television, humans refused to enter, and they accounted for well over half of the occupancy.

It wasn't a human that charged in, however. In fact, it was a very familiar vampire.

"Eric!" Bill's voice echoed through the vacant building and caused the man in question to roll his eyes.

"How can I help you, Bill?" Eric laced his question with the thickest derision he could manage.

Bill charged for the vampire on the throne and immediately yanked him to his feet. It was comical to Eric, honestly. Not only was he more than five times Bill's age, but he was nearly a foot taller. The fact that Bill was attempting to hold Eric up off the ground in the most threatening way possible caused the blonde to smirk. Despite Bill's best efforts, Eric's toes still comfortably touched the floor.

"You seem distressed." Eric said casually.

In the background, just beyond Bill's shoulder, he saw both Pam and Maria mobilizing, shifting their bodies so that no table or chair would be between them and Compton if they charged.

"Where is she?" Bill growled.

"Where's who?" Eric remained far too calm for the irate vampire.

"Sookie," Bill said through his teeth. "What have you done with her?"

Eric's taunting grin faded and his brows pulled together curiously. There was no denying Bill's conviction. Even Compton wasn't stupid enough to simply try and fight Eric unless there was a reason, so the Viking believed him that Sookie was gone. And, it bore to reason that Eric would be the prime suspect. Given his past obsession with the blonde, anyone would logically approach him. There was just one problem.

"I didn't do anything with her." He replied.

"Don't lie to me." Bill hissed.

He shook Eric sharply to help instill his point, and that was where Northman drew the line. With minimal effort, he shoved Bill in the chest which sent the vampire flying. Pam and Maria stepped fluidly out of the way to allow Bill to slam into the far wall.

Eric took a deep breath and sighed as he brushed off the front of his suit, and swatted the fabric back into place. Bill gradually rose to shaky feet. He stared hatefully at Eric through his brows, but the Viking saw a shift. There was anger, yes, but desperation, too.

"Please, Eric," His voice reflected the look in his eyes. "If you have her, or you've done _anything_ with her, tell me."

"She dumped you, Bill." He said as he slid his hands into his pockets. "It happens every day. Humans are temperamental. Move on. She clearly has."

Eric turned and headed for his dais once more. He heard Bill follow, but the vampire wisely didn't attack again.

"I cannot feel her anymore." He said. Eric reached his throne and sat, staring blankly down at Bill. "Can you?"

For the first time in a while, Eric attempted to sense Sookie. He couldn't. There was an odd void where she used to be, an emptiness that surprised him.

"No," He finally told Bill. "But she isn't here, and I didn't kill her."

Bill looked broken, but it was the truth. Thankfully, he left shortly after. Either he didn't have the energy to continue fighting, or had decided that his attempts to locate her would be better served elsewhere. Whatever the reason, Eric was grateful when he left.

As he sat there and thought about Sookie's disappearance, Eric was shocked by what he felt. Or, how little he felt, rather. He was sad that he couldn't feel her, and a little worried, but to his shock, it wasn't for the girl herself. Eric was genuinely upset by the fact that her blood was no longer within arm's reach.

His gaze drifted along the room that stretched before him and landed on Maria. She was wiping a few glasses and setting them back behind the bar. She was in her own world and unaware of his lingering stare, and while he thought of a great many things looking at her, what she said to him in his daydream echoed in his mind.

"_You don't want the waitress. You just want her blood."_

Eric propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned into his hand. He ran his index finger along his lips as he thought.

She was right.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN:** Hey guys! It's been a minute, sorry. Been struggling with some other stories. Lol. But, anyway, here's the new chapter Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 19**

_Six Months after Sookie's Disappearance_

Things at Fangtasia had, to the best of their ability, begun to return to normal. The AVL had done their best to try and wipe away everything Edgington had done, but it was slow goings.

Fangtasia's customers were gradually returning, though they generally had to step through a picket line when they did. And, as though that wasn't affecting the bottom line enough, Eric had to deal with Bon Temps Sheriff's Department making random inquiries. It didn't seem to matter how often they turned up nothing. Once Sookie's brother joined the force, random raids were common.

It annoyed Eric that the Shreveport Sheriff's Department was cooperating with them and that no one would back him. _We have to comply with human laws_ they'd say.

Eric's head began to ache as he sat in his office pouring himself over the books. The sheer amount of money he had to pay in taxes to the newly-crowned King Bill angered him. It wasn't that he had to pay. That was a constant ever since he'd been given the title of Sheriff. It was _who_ he had to pay that annoyed him.

After making the last few calculations, Eric leaned back in his seat and thought. They used to bring in thousands of dollars a night, generally nearing nine or ten. Now, with the current tensions within the human community, they struggled to reach five. They were pulling in half of their regular income, and still had to pay nearly eighty-percent in tax.

Eric was stressed.

There was a benefit to feeling the emotion, though, something he planned to exploit. Gliding fluidly to his feet, Eric left his office. He strolled casually to the back room where the box compactor sat, just near the doors that led to the alley with the dumpsters. He'd followed the scent to find Maria there.

She was standing at the compactor, tossing broken-down boxes into it before slamming the grate shut, and compressing it. The gears ground against one another and the sound was all but deafening to him, but he hid within it. While the machine made its noises, he crept towards the unsuspecting young woman.

When he was as close as he could get before she sensed him behind her, Eric lunged. He encircled her in his arm and grabbed the hair at the crown of her head, jerking it back. Maria cried out.

"Mine," Eric growled in her ear before he bit into her throat.

Maria screamed again. She fought against him and tore at his arm, but she made no headway. Eric held her as tightly as he could without causing actual damage, and drank to his heart's content.

When she began to go limp in his grip, Eric released her. He retracted his teeth, bit the tip of his tongue and glided it over the puncture wounds. When they closed, he let her go entirely. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, which he expected. It was a common occurrence when he decided to hunt her.

Without hesitation, Eric bit into his wrist and offered it to her. Maria took it without a second thought and drank just enough to heal the damage he'd done. After she'd finished the brief drink, Eric turned and left her to finish her task. That was it. That was the end of their interaction, and it was incredibly common.

Throughout the last few months, at least since the entire Russell ordeal, he and Maria had fallen into a rhythm. They knew what to expect from one another, and what was expected from them. They'd found a balance that suited them.

As he returned to his office, Eric tenderly wiped some of Maria's blood from his lips, smiling as he went. He rather liked the way things were going, finances notwithstanding. Things had leveled out and were actually peaceful again. He had no concerns anymore, not since Sookie disappeared.

While he thought about her periodically, and called on their connection to see if he could sense her, she rarely crossed his mind. He tended to only think of her when her brother came storming into Fangtasia demanding answers. But, she'd leave his mind shortly after the men in uniforms disappeared.

If he had one complaint, however, it would be having bought Maria her own house. At the time, it made sense. If his house hadn't been so easy to find, he'd have put it in her name until he dealt with Edgington, but the situation being what it was, her having a house of her own that no one save him and Pam knew about was the safest option. The problem came with the fact that he hadn't died as he initially thought he might, which left Maria with a place of her own. He didn't like her sleeping somewhere other than beneath his roof.

He was still possessive of her, perhaps even more-so than before. Worse yet, he was completely aware of the fact. Eric knew, even while the thoughts were crossing his mind, that he was being unreasonable. He simply didn't care. It was so unreasonable sometimes, in fact, that Eric was genuinely upset that eight months had already passed.

It wasn't panic that he felt when he thought about it, but the closest he assumed he could feel to the emotion. Before everything, her end-date meant nothing to him. He thought she'd be a fun toy to play with and then think nothing of again once she was gone –assuming he didn't kill her in the meantime. But, after all that they'd been through, he wasn't as willing to let her walk away. It was almost enough to make him seek out the last member of Anthony's crew that she hadn't found just to add another six months to their deal. Eric had his name and knew what he looked like after Maria shared her life story, so he knew he could find him if he had to. He simply hadn't decided on the fact just yet. Doing so would confirm that he had feelings of any kind for her, and he wasn't willing to do that.

The rest of the night progressed slowly, but it continued on regardless. Soon, it came time to close. Maria was in the process of cleaning up for the night. Ginger would be in later that day to deal with orders and the like, but the staff was well aware that she wasn't entirely reliable, so Maria and the others did what they could before she arrived.

After wiping down the tables and placing the chairs on top, Maria approached Eric, who had returned to sitting on his throne.

"I'm done." She told him plainly. "Is there anything else?"

His usual thoughts passed through his mind, from the teasing to the lecherous, but he didn't speak any of them. Instead, Eric simply shook his head, and that was all the prompting Maria needed. She gave him a nod and without another word, she left.

* * *

When Maria got home, she instantly grabbed something to eat from the fridge. It was nothing more than an apple, but she needed just a bit of food to stave off hunger. She was too tired to make herself anything that night, and would prepare a big breakfast before she went to work.

As Maria stood in her kitchen chomping on the apple, she looked around the room. She'd been gradually restoring her house over the last few months. Since the majority of her time was dedicated to Eric and Fangtasia, she did what she could during the day. Being a supe helped move things along, but she was still only capable of a room at a time, and that may take a week or better. Still, it was coming along and the kitchen was the most recent. She still found herself admiring the brand new paint, slick countertops, and shining appliances.

When she'd finished eating, Maria tossed away the core and took a shower to wash off the smell of the club. Afterward, she sank into her bed with a soft groan. She felt instantly better and fell asleep almost immediately.

Things were so much better now that Sookie was gone. Aside from the random police inspections, Maria was as happy as she assumed she could be. Sookie Stackhouse was nothing but trouble, and Maria meant that in a very literal sense. Whenever the blonde showed herself, things inevitably turned bad, and then she'd whimper, whine, and pout, flashing those big blue eyes, and somehow manage to drag everyone into her mess. She was an actual menace.

A little bit of drama to keep things exciting was fine, but Sookie brought actual life and death situations to the door. Frequently. Whenever she turned back up again, Maria feared the same would follow. Eric didn't think she was dead, unfortunately. And, if she was being honest with herself, Maria didn't, either. If there was one thing that was unmistakably true, that bitch somehow always managed to survive. It wouldn't surprise Maria one bit if she was off somewhere doing whatever she wanted while those stupid enough to actually care about her were losing their minds.

* * *

The night was stale and humid. It clung to his skin as he walked onto the front porch of Maria's house. It made him scowl, but he ignored it as he stepped through the door without invitation.

As he stood in the foyer, Eric's eyes drifted. He pressed his hearing to find her and soon did. Soft, dulcet singing and the sound of shifting water guided his feet. They barely touched the steps as he climbed to the second floor and reached her bathroom door. On the other side, he heard her singing another haunting melody, though this time in English. It was a song he somehow knew without knowing.

"_Tis I, tis I, thine own true love, that sits all on your grave._" Her voice was soft, separated from him by the thin slab of wood between them. "_I ask one kiss from your sweet lips, and that is all I crave."_

Eric wrapped his slender fingers around the brass knob and opened the door with ease. It glided out of his way on silent hinges, exposing the interior of the bathroom to him.

Candles littered every surface from floor to shelves, and surrounded the pristinely white bathtub. The flickering glow of a hundred candles made the shadows dance.

Directly in front of him and facing the door in the high-backed, claw foot tub was Maria. Her ebony hair was gathered at the top of her head, but tendrils had escaped and clung to her damp skin. She tenderly gathered the opaque liquid of her bath and spread it along her arms. The moment he passed the threshold, her brilliant green eyes landed on him.

She continued to sing as he approached.

"_My breast is cold as the grave, my breath is Earthly strong. And if you kiss my cold clay lips, your days will not be long."_

The nearer he drew, the more Eric could see. Maria sat in a milk bath, the white liquid shielding everything save her arms and shoulders from view. Blood red rose petals danced across the surface, shifting only when she did.

"Is that what would happen if I kissed your lips?" She asked in a voice as delicate as the one she sang with. "Would my days be numbered?"

Eric tore his eyes from her body and met her gaze. "You mean, would it kill you?"

Maria nodded. Eric thought on his answer only briefly because he knew it the instant she asked her question.

"Yes." He told her.

"Hm," She muttered softly.

Maria seemed to fall into her own thoughts as she wrapped her fingers around the curved lip of the bathtub. Eric continued to watch her. He felt an odd spark of cold in his chest when he answered her. It was the truth and perhaps that was what bothered him so much.

"And what if I kiss you anyway?"

A single brow rose as he looked at her. "Is that what you want?"

She didn't immediately reply. Instead, Maria used her grip on the tub to pull herself up and out of the bath. Eric's attention immediately diverted for obvious reasons. He couldn't help but watch the way the thick, white liquid glided down the curves of her body, the way it dripped from her chest and slid down the slope of her hips. He was transfixed, completely under her spell until she stepped out of the bathtub.

Eric gaze drifted back to hers as Maria approached him with slow, deliberate steps. When she reached him, Maria immediately began to unbutton his shirt. Eric could have sworn he felt his heart begin to beat with anticipation. On instinct, he reached out and held her hips, squeezing them gently as he did.

"And if it is?" She asked on a whisper.

Eric lifted one hand while the other remained on her hip, and gently trailed the back of his fingers along her jaw.

"Then so be it." He said just as softly. Eric dipped forward and brushed his lips across hers before he added, "I'll just have to keep you safe."

He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. Maria happily complied and continued to undo his shirt until she could shove it from his shoulders. Eric helped her as best he could, all the while refusing to release her lips.

When his shirt hit the floor, Eric lifted Maria into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He did all he could to ensure her naked body was pressed as tightly against him as it could be.

A bed appeared beneath them. Eric lowered himself on top of Maria and finally tore his lips from hers, but dipped quickly into the crook of her neck. He felt the heat of her skin and the way her pulse fluttered beneath.

His fingers began to tingle with the need to act while his body vibrated. Eric felt as though he'd come through his skin at any moment and that desperation translated to every part of him. Without a care as to how it sounded, he spoke freely.

"Come home," He mumbled against her neck as he kissed her.

"I am home." She said with a moan-laced whimpered.

"No," He said before sharply biting into her shoulder just hard enough she would know that he didn't like her answer. Eric drew back, propped himself over her, and stared into her bright green eyes intently. "Come home with me." Her brows tugged together. She seemed confused. "You belong to me."

His voice was stern, but sincere, and to his surprise, her expression softened. A slow smile spread across her full lips. She reached for him, lacing her fingers through his hair. The sensation of her fingernails raking across his scalp sent shudders down his back. Maria pulled him to her.

"Yes," She whispered just before she kissed him again.

Eric was more than willing to disappear into the moment, to let it consume him, but then he felt it. It began small, then hit him so powerfully he launched himself away from Maria. It was fear, that same pure, unimaginable fear he'd felt from her before.

He was breathing heavily from his spot across the room, staring at the unmoving young woman on the bed. Somehow, he forced himself to approach, worried that he was the cause. When he could finally see her again, Maria was staring back with the most terrified expression he had ever seen. An instant later, her mouth opened and a horrifying scream emerged.

The scene around him disappeared in an instant. Eric's eyes shot open. He was still nestled within the safety of his coffin at Fangtasia. It had all been a dream, a wonderfully frustrating dream, but the fear was very real and more powerful than anything he'd felt before.

Without a second thought, Eric threw open the lid to his coffin and raced upstairs. He was at the front door in an instant and yanked it open. Immediately, he was bathed in sunlight. It burned and scorched his skin as soon as it touched him, and forced Eric to retreat into the safety of the club.

His brows had furrowed and he began to pace. Something was wrong –dangerously wrong- with Maria. He'd felt her nightmares before, but this was different. It felt too real, too raw. She was in trouble and there was nothing he could do about it as long as the sun was out.

For only the third time in his life, Eric felt helpless. He was helpless to save his family, helpless to save Godric, and now helpless to save Maria.

A loud, ferocious roar left him as he lifted the nearest object and launched it across Fangtasia. The table smashed against a distant wall, shattered and broken. It did nothing to alleviate his rage.

* * *

Maria didn't know where she was. She was tied tightly with her arms chained behind her back, her ankles bound, and a rag tied around her head as a gag. She was immobile. There was even a spiked collar around her throat with spikes –gnarly and thick- that faced inward. It was specifically designed to keep her from shifting. If she changed into her other form, the spikes would puncture the entirety of her neck and she could very possibly die.

The road noise was loud and inches from her. It was sweltering within the trunk. The sun was clearly bearing down on her, and wringing every droplet of sweat from her body that it could.

There was no lead up to where she found herself. Maria had been asleep. She felt a brief jab of something, may have remembered being moved, but nothing more. As far as she was aware, she awoke in someone's trunk.

Unwilling to remain, Maria began to kick at the side of the small pocket she found herself in. Her ankles might have been bound together, but her legs were more or less free, and she used them to the best of her ability.

Maria threw her heels into the side of the vehicle with such force that it jostled and swayed, but she didn't stop. She continued to pummel it in hopes that she might cause the driver to wreck, or would put her foot straight through the quarter panel.

She felt the aluminum shifting beneath her heels. She felt it succumbing to her will. With a few more kicks, she'd be able to possibly escape.

As she reared back to continue her attack, the car suddenly began to slow. Maria went still. She waited to hear if they were at a light or somewhere public, but she could hear nothing but the passing of more cars. They were probably pulling over to the side of the freeway. Good.

Maria had been facing the back of the trunk, away from the opening, and she knew she had only one chance. As best as she could within the minimal space, Maria rolled and twisted until she faced the trunk's lid. Her heart thundered. She was primed and ready to launch herself at whoever had been stupid enough to take her in the first place. The chains meant nothing at that moment. She would deal with them afterward. Her first, and only concern, was attacking her kidnapper.

As the car finally came to a halt and she heard the driver exit, Maria steadied her breathing. In and out, in and out. Every nerve within her was ready for what was coming. It'd been so long since she was able to fight without a care as to the consequences. She almost welcomed it, especially since she was so angry at herself for letting the kidnapping happen.

A key slid into the lock. Her heartbeat turned to a hum in her ears. She tensed her muscles as the lock gave way and the trunk's latch released. The thin beam of light hurt her eyes at first, but the rush of fresh air helped steady her. The trunk slowly rose, she braced herself against the interior, and just as the driver came into view, Maria went still.

The blood rushed from her face and all the fight fled her in an instant. She felt dizzy, nauseous, and scared.

"Hello, l'vitsa."

Maria instantly screamed as she scrambled to get as far away from him as possible, but he lunged for her regardless.

The last thing she saw as the world around her went black was those dead, cold, hateful eyes.

**Song: The Unquiet Grave**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN:** Sorry it's been a minute guys. Busy, busy, busy. lol. Anyway, here's another chapter. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

**Chapter 20**

The spike digging into her throat woke Maria. She winced as she tried to push herself up. Her inability to use her arms shocked her into clarity. Her surroundings were suddenly in startling detail.

She was somewhere dark again, dank, and that smelled a little off. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a noise, but she couldn't identify it. Her wrists were still chained together behind her back, but when she moved, she realized that an even longer chain bound them to the wall behind her. The collar was still firmly clamped into place around her neck, too. Thankfully, her gag was gone, as were the chains that had once kept her ankles together.

Maria awkwardly stood. She felt a very real chill, though it had nothing to do with the stale air. She was partially clothed, dirty, in pain, and chained –all by the most dangerous man she'd ever met.

Tears began to well in her eyes, but she did her best to keep them at bay. Maria had to remind herself to keep her head. She had to be smart. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was a grown woman, soon to be one-hundred and fifteen years old. She could handle this.

With repeated deep breaths, Maria took inventory of her surroundings. The walls were stone, or aged stonework, she couldn't tell, but they were something along those lines. Logically, that meant either a cave or a basement.

No light permeated the space. There were no windows and a single door which led to who-knows-where. The floor was dirt, the room decently sized, and lacked any identifying marks.

There were other things, though, things that chilled her spine to see. Unlit candles littered the walls, stuck in place by melted wax. There was a table off to the side as well, and held all manner of things. She saw pens, pencils, scraps of paper, and small bowls. She saw matches and bottles of things she couldn't identify. She saw books and little metal things that could have been talismans, but they all meant nothing to her. Maria didn't know what any of it was for. She could only guess, and that frightened her.

For an untold amount of time, Maria sat in darkness. She did her best to keep her senses trained on her surroundings for any hint as to where she was, but her nerves were frayed to the point she had little control over herself.

Finally, she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Maria perked. She got to her feet awkwardly and unsteadily, but she refused to be in such a vulnerable position. A bevy of locks clicked and the door soon gave way. He entered with a lit lantern that cast his face in a disturbing light. He smiled at her.

Maria did her best to remain strong and defiant, but it was fruitless. All of her bravado, all of the bravery that she showed in the face of Northman or even Edgington, meant nothing when faced with _him_. Maria pushed herself against the wall to put as much distance between her and Rasputin as she could. He found it amusing and grinned.

Grigori closed the door once again and locked it for good measure before he approached the table. He proceeded to set the lantern down, take the matches into his hands, and light the candles. One by one, the "dungeon" came into better view, but Maria paid it no attention. She was sure her gaze remained fixed to him.

Maria was shaking. She couldn't express how terrified she was of the man casually pacing around her to light the candles. There were no words, honestly. He rendered her speechless and robbed her of the ability to even think. The fear she felt towards him was simply primal, animalistic, and that animal was a mouse trapped in the talons of a hawk –helpless and small.

He remained silent as he finished the task. Grigori blew out the long, thin wooden match and tossed it elsewhere in the room, discarding it completely. He stood at the table with his back to her, shielding Maria from whatever he was doing. Her nerves were fraying even more. The longer he went without speaking, and the longer she was forced to endure her own imagination, the more frazzled she became.

"_I have missed you, child_." He finally said.

He continued to work and chose to speak in Russian for whatever reason. The familiarity of it and his voice sent very-real shivers tearing through her, to the point her skin prickled. She hated his voice.

When he finally turned, he held a mortar and pestle in his hands, and was grinding something within the stone basin. Maria was shaking violently, and tears had long-since gathered in her eyes. She was physically sweating out of fear and breathing shakily, but she refused to look away. Maria met his gaze without blinking, no matter how much it hurt.

Grigori approached sending Maria launching back into the wall hard. He stopped a few feet from her and let his eyes dance over her body. Unable to shield herself, Maria was forced to endure it.

His eyes were a sickly green, pale and as unnatural as the man himself. They sparkled with sinister intent whenever they landed on Maria, something she was aware of even as a girl. He was an ugly man with a bulbous nose, deeply-set, hooded eyes, and a stern mouth. His hair was always thin and greasy, slicked down to his head while his beard was left to grow in every direction. Little had changed since the last time she'd seen him. His hair was shorter, nothing more.

While he continued to grind whatever concoction he was making, Rasputin's eyes met hers once more. Maria clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together tightly.

"_You didn't make it easy to find you."_ He said, all the while twisting the pestle in a lazy fashion. "_But I still felt you."_

Maria blinked, sending tears streaming silently down her flushed cheeks.

"_I will __always__ find you."_

The soft grinding of the pestle finally ended. Grigori returned to the table and set it down. He dumped whatever he'd been working on into his palm and approached her again. Maria had a sinking feeling and reacted immediately. She tried to back away, to move away from him and whatever he'd made, but she was limited –trapped.

Rasputin opened his palm when she was stuck against the "corner" and blew. The powdery mixture sailed at her. She tried to keep from breathing it in, but choked on it regardless. The effect was instant.

Maria's head began to swim and her stance wavered. She struggled to stand, but her knees began to tremble. They couldn't support her anymore and before she knew it, they slammed into the dirt floor. Maria lifted her head, which suddenly felt as though it weighed tons, and stared up at the monster. He was blurry, out of focus, and more than once she saw him in double.

"What," She mumbled.

Her body was heavy and no longer under her control. She told herself to stand, to do anything at all, but every time she tried, Maria toppled to the floor again.

"What'd y'do?" Her words slurred.

He approached and again she struggled to move, but she couldn't. She was completely subdued.

"_I'm going to tame you."_ He said with a voice twisted by a growl.

* * *

For ten hours the sun held him hostage. Ten-fucking-hours. Decades had come and gone faster than those ten hours passed, but he had no choice. Eric couldn't set foot outside without burning, and what good would he be if that happened?

Blood had poured from his nose and ears throughout the day, staining his dark shirt. He wiped it away at first, but after a couple of hours, he didn't bother. He had too much to think about, too much on his mind.

Maria's fear hadn't subsided. It dipped a bit, but it was still there. She was still in danger and his feeling of uselessness only served to enrage him. The furniture and nearly everything else that wasn't nailed down suffered for it. Eric had to take out his rage on something, and the furniture was all he had.

By the time eight-thirty that evening rolled around, Eric fled Fangtasia. The sun hadn't completely set behind the horizon, but he didn't care. The ache of it frying his skin didn't matter. He'd waited for too long already. As horrible as it was to admit, Eric needed Maria's fear. As long as he felt it, he knew she was alive.

Her extreme emotions guided him. Miles passed as he flew toward her, long-since leaving Shreveport. Only one thought coursed through his mind as he headed south: Maria belonged to him and someone or something was hurting her.

To the overly-proud and possessive Viking, that was unacceptable.

His journey brought him to an abandoned cemetery outside of a no-named town in the south of Louisiana. Eric didn't know where he was, nor did he care. He only charged forward, following the overwhelming scent of Maria's fear and pain.

Winding paths and a dark tunnel that led into the ground barely registered with Eric as he raced into a haunting scene. The smell of blood hit him the moment he was underground. It was only a millisecond before he burst through a thick, multi-locked wooden door.

The door flew inward, splintered and broken. Eric stood in the center of a dungeon that had likely been a crypt some time ago. His eyes instantly fell to Maria and all of his anger, his fury, fled him in that instant.

Maria was on the floor, trembling and crying. She was curled in on herself, doing her best to remain as small as possible. Her shirt was gone, discarded somewhere, leaving her in nothing but a pair of panties. But it was her skin that held his attention the most. Maria's once pale yet pristine skin was stained red and brown. A dozen marks or more littered her back, slices narrow but cruel, and were the cause of the blood he smelled. Where wet blood had once flowed, dirt clung, caking in some places.

Eric felt sick. Phantom bile rose in his throat and he struggled with the very-real desire to vomit.

So lost in his own shock, Eric almost didn't notice that they weren't alone. The sound of Maria's dwindling heartbeat was choked out by another. His fangs instantly sprang forward and his head jerked to the side. Standing only a few feet from him near a table was a man he'd seen a dozen times, but never met.

Rasputin stood with his sleeves rolled up, blood staining his hands, and an angry blade in his hand. It was a knife Eric recognized. It was the one he'd seen in his dream slicing into Maria's back, the one that left the scar behind.

Filled with unimaginable levels of rage and violence, Eric raced for the sorcerer. He gripped Rasputin by the loose fabric of his shirt and threw him as hard as possible against a distance wall. A loud crack permeated the space when Rasputin's head bounced off the stone. The man in black crumbled to the dirt floor and Eric genuinely smiled when a pool of blood gathered beneath the wound on the back of his head.

Rasputin's heartbeat began to fade until Eric could only hear Maria's, and that brought him back to the moment.

His feet fell almost silently as he approached her. When he made it to her side, she hadn't noticed. She didn't even move when he touched her shoulder. Whatever Rasputin had done, it left her nearly comatose.

Eric rose and snapped the steel chains binding her to the wall, and the one keeping her wrists together. When her arms fell back to her sides, he began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't hesitate to wrap her in the dark fabric before lifting her into his arms and fleeing the dungeon.

* * *

Eric didn't stop to assess anything until he was standing in Maria's bedroom back in Shreveport. When there, he laid her down gently and finally noticed the collar around her throat. With a scowl, he yanked it off of her as gently as he could. When it was away from her skin, leaving behind pinprick marks, he tossed it to the far side of the room.

She was still trembling and hadn't opened her eyes. In fact, she didn't seem to notice they'd flown home, and given how terrified she was last time, it worried Eric that she hadn't reacted. With his fangs out, he tore into his wrist. Using his free hand, Eric tenderly lifted her head and placed the bleeding wound to her partially-opened mouth. A few heart wrenching seconds passed before he felt her actively feeding from him. When he did, Eric allowed himself to calm a little.

Maria fed from him for a moment, perhaps two, before she finally released him. The moment she opened her eyes, Eric saw and felt that fear again. She began to panic, scrambling to get away from him until Eric grabbed hold of her arms.

"Maria," He said sternly.

His voice and his refusal to let her go seemed to help snap her back into reality. Her wide eyes finally landed on him and immediately filled with tears. Suddenly, Maria lunged forward. Eric was taken aback when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He didn't move a single muscle, not even when she dug the tips of her fingernails into his back to the point he was sure he'd bleed. In truth, Eric didn't know how to react, so he chose to do nothing.

Maria clung to him desperately. She was still shaking, but he assumed it had subsided since he rescued her.

She continued to claw at him, to pull him against her as closely as possible. Eric was very aware that Maria didn't want an iota of space between them. He wasn't certain what to think, and then she said something that made him pause.

"Thank you."

She sounded as broken as she looked on the floor of that dungeon, but that wasn't what disturbed him the most. What Eric found unsettling was the amount of shock in her voice. Maria sounded sincerely and completely astounded by the fact that he had been there, and it was in that moment that he realized she expected to die. Maria expected to be abandoned and die alone.

Untold seconds –or perhaps minutes- passed before Maria finally stopped shaking. In fact, she almost melted into him. When her body relaxed, it molded around Eric's.

He wasn't sure how to proceed. A small voice told him to comfort her, to hold her in his arms like a normal person would, but the majority of his brain still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea. He could do it while she was asleep because, well, she was asleep. There was no witness to the tenderness. That was why he chose to be a smarmy ass when she woke. But awake, he childishly felt exposed, as though she'd somehow think less of him if he was kind. Given how many times they'd showed one another compassion in that way, Eric knew he was being ridiculous, but that angry, proud, and arrogant side of him still struggled for the foreground.

Still, he didn't want to neglect her. Again, they'd been through enough, and she'd experienced Hell the whole day. Eric felt obligated to ease any of that ungodly fear and pain because he swam in guilt that it happened at all.

He eventually made a decision on how to proceed.

While Maria still clung to him, he threaded his arms beneath her, and stood. Eric cradled Maria to his chest in a bridal-hold and left her bedroom. When he reached her bathroom, his mind did flash temporarily with the dream he'd had that day, but it didn't linger. He had other things to think about.

Crouching near the toilet, Eric set Maria down. Her hold didn't loosen, so he was forced to take her wrists in his hands and almost pry them away. She was reluctant, but eventually complied. He looked at her when she drew back and saw dust and dirt on her face, trails of clean skin from tears, and where the dirt clung to the liquid. It disturbed Eric, how weak she looked, because he knew it was wrong.

He turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bathtub. Without a word, he began to draw her a bath. She needed it and it was all he could think to do.

The only sound was of water cascading into the tub, and the moment he shut it off, they fell into another silence. Eric stood upright and shifted to look down at the young woman in his shirt. She was staring at the floor wringing her hands.

"Clean yourself." He said. Maria gave a small nod as she looked at herself.

Eric left the bathroom, closing the door behind him when he did. Almost the same instant, his phone began to ring. When he retrieved it from his back pocket, he spotted Pam's name flashing.

"Yes?" He answered.

"What the _fuck_ happened here!" She screamed into the receiver.

"Pam," Eric's voice was light and airy, a tone he knew she'd instantly hate. And he was right.

"Don't fuckin' Pam me, Eric. The fuck happened?"

"Nothing." He said. It was a blatant lie and he knew she was aware. "I'll take care of it."

Pam let out a huff and seemed to have calmed a bit before she spoke again. "I've already made the call. New tables and chairs'll be here in an hour."

"Thank you, Pam." He said with a smirk.

"Fuck you." And she abruptly hung up.

Eric smirked, chuckling a little to himself as he replaced his phone into his pocket. With the destruction he left behind at Fangtasia settled, Eric's attention drifted back to the bathroom door. He finally heard the sound of water rustling, so knew Maria had at least gotten into it.

Now, he had to wait.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN:** Woooo! Enjoy!

**Chapter 21**

Maria sat in the water with her knees to her chest, staring at it as it changed color. Ever since she sat down, it shifted into a strange burnt orange color. She could only liken it to the red sands of a desert.

She tenderly ran a washcloth over her exposed skin, lazily washing it as she thought about what had happened. It came in flashes because she'd been so heavily drugged. In truth, she didn't want to remember it all. Maria was more than willing to forget the experience, but the marks it left behind were undeniable. She still felt the burning slashes in her back even though she knew Eric's blood had healed them.

Eric.

Maria's brows tugged together as she remembered waking in her own bed feeding from him. It was the only clear memory she had that wasn't warped in some way, and it made the least amount of sense. She didn't understand how he found her or why he bothered saving her. She was grateful, yes, but had no idea why he did it.

She was embarrassed, an emotion that was hard for her to contend with. Maria didn't like being seen that weak or pathetic. It bothered her more than she could express, and she wished it hadn't happened.

An unknown amount of time had passed as Maria bathed. She'd lingered without moving for a while, but finally found some footing. It was the fact that Eric had seen her that way that did it. Her pride wouldn't allow it, so no matter how badly she wanted to curl into a ball and disappear, she wouldn't. She'd fake the strength and bravery that she cloaked herself in for the majority of her life.

With a final rinse and a steadying breath, Maria stepped out of the bath, pulled the plug, and wrapped herself in a towel. She grabbed Eric's shirt with the intent of giving it to him later that night, and opened the door. To her surprise, he was lingering in the hallway. Maria hadn't expected to see him clearly waiting for her. It took a moment, but she shook herself back into reality and offered him the garment.

"Thank you," She said as he took the shirt.

Maria averted her eyes as though it would somehow hide some of her shame. She wasn't so foolish as to think it would, but it helped her.

As she walked into her bedroom, she felt Eric lingering somewhere behind her. She continued to act as though it was nothing and went to her dresser for something to wear.

"He won't be bothering you again." He told her as she dug through her underwear drawer.

She tossed a pair of panties and a bra onto the wooden surface before sifting through the drawer with her jeans without a care as to him seeing them. Why would she? They were just pieces of cloth and there were more important things on her mind.

"You killed him?" She kept her voice even and calm despite the torrent of emotion swirling around inside her.

"Yes," Maria heard his pride and a glimpse of the smile he had on his lips proved it.

"How?"

"I bounced his head off the wall." He replied arrogantly.

Maria paused in her search for her jeans, and turned to him with a curious stare. "And?" she asked.

It was Eric's turn to look confused. "And?" He repeated unsurely.

"And what else?"

"He bled out. I saw it."

Maria's eyes shot wide and terror swept through her. Eric noticed and stood upright, pushing himself away from the doorway he'd been leaning against.

"Oh God," She mumbled. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."

Without warning, she was a flurry of movement, snatching a pair of jeans without a care as to what they were. She stripped herself of her towel and dressed as quickly as she could, completely unconcerned with the fact that Eric had likely caught glimpses of her nudity.

"I have to leave." She said as she tugged her jeans on. "I have to get out of here."

When she turned to retrieve a shirt, Eric appeared in her path. He stared down at her sternly.

"You're not going anywhere."

"He's not dead!" She yelled at him. Eric flinched. "He's been shot, poisoned, stabbed, and you think a little head knock was enough?" She stared up at him almost desperately. "He's still alive and he knows where I live. I _have_ to leave."

Eric went still, so Maria seized her chance. She stepped around him and retrieved a shirt. Once it was on, she began to pack. A while ago, she'd bought an old travel bag large enough for the basics, so she retrieved it, and began to throw everything she could possibly need inside.

As Maria dropped her phone charger and her jewelry into the bag, a hand clasped her wrist. She looked up to see Eric staring down at her intensely again.

"You're not leaving."

She jerked her hand away. "He will find me. Do you understand that? He's been chasing me for almost a fucking century because he thinks I'm his mate. A _century_, and you think he'll suddenly walk away? He's fucking insane and obsessive, or did that somehow escape your attention?" Eric didn't reply, and she didn't truly expect him to. Maria zipped her bag shut and grabbed hold of it before she looked at him again. "I've been in Louisiana too long. I never should have stayed."

With her bag in hand, Maria charged toward the front door, but only made it to the hall outside her bedroom before Eric once again stood in her path.

"You're. Not. Leaving." He repeated sternly.

Maria clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth in frustration. Why was he being so fucking stubborn? It wasn't as though he didn't understand. He knew exactly what she was dealing with, so why?

"We had a deal."

Her stomach fell and her head dipped. _That_ was why he wouldn't let her leave, their deal. Of course it was, she should have known, so why did it bother her?

"Look," She said with a sigh, "I'll come back in a few years, okay?" His brows twitched together, which she thought was odd, but she pressed on. "A decade at most, but I'll fulfill the rest of the deal."

She took another step and as before, he stood in her path. Maria was losing her patience. She had to get out of her house and Louisiana as quickly as possible, but with Eric blocking her at every turn, it was becoming damn-near impossible to manage.

"Let me go!" She had finally snapped and yelled at him, but Eric didn't seem the slightest bit worried.

"No," He said firmly.

"Why?!" She was angry and nervous, two things that weren't good for an animal to feel. She knew that if she didn't leave soon, she'd lash out. "Our deal can't mean that fucking much to you."

"It doesn't."

"Then why are you forcing me to stay?! Is it my blood? Then fine," Maria was acting erratic and she knew it. The fact that she raked her fingernails across her forearm and tore it open was only further proof. "Then take it! I don't care, but I'm not staying here anymore."

When Eric didn't move or speak, probably stunned into silence by what she'd done, Maria seized her opportunity. She swept past him and downstairs. She made it to the foyer, feet from the front door, when Eric appeared in his path again, but this time was different. He wouldn't look her in the eye for more than a second, and he'd lost his confrontational edge. It made her uncomfortable.

His voice was much softer than before when he spoke again. "Don't leave."

Her brows furrowed and for whatever reason, Maria felt compelled to take a step back. He eventually met her gaze, and when he did, Eric looked strangely sincere.

"I want you to stay."

Maria's façade began to crack. "He'll come for me."

Eric's stormy eyes hardened just a bit. "He'll die. Permanently."

She believed that he thought it was possible, but she wasn't so sure. However, when Eric offered his hand, she took it. She didn't know what else to do. He clearly had no intention of letting her go and Maria didn't know if she had the strength to fight Eric Northman too.

Holding her hand firmly in his, Eric guided her down the rest of the stairs and outside. The moment they were, he lifted her into his arms and sailed into the air.

* * *

Maria might have been working her normal shift at Fangtasia that night, but Eric could see her anxiety. If she bothered hiding it at all, she hadn't succeeded. While performing the simplest tasks, he would see her flinch or roll her shoulders, as though she sensed someone lingering just behind her. He knew she would appreciate the distraction, but it seemed to hardly work.

He was glad she chose to stay, however, especially since he was aware of how afraid she was. The desire to run was so prominent that he not only sensed it himself, but he could see it in her eyes. The brilliant green was choked out, dulled with the need to flee.

But she stayed. He asked her to, and she did. There was an odd sense of pride that came along with the fact that she remained behind because he'd been sincere. Manipulation didn't even play into it, and he still got his way.

While things had been relatively subdued, Eric did close Fangtasia early. When two o'clock rolled around that morning, he sent everyone away, including other employees. When he locked the front door, only he, Pam, and Maria remained.

He clicked the lock into place and turned. Maria was doing her best to keep busy, wiping off tables and chairs so she could do the same to the floor. He stood and watched her for a minute or two before she rolled a single shoulder once more. It looked as though she was trying to brush away someone attempting to touch her.

It was the final straw as far as Eric was concerned, and drove him to say something he'd wanted to say for months.

"You're coming home with me today." He kept his tone casual and light because he knew a fight would come. The circumstances didn't matter. Maria would fight him.

Her face twisted with annoyance and confusion when she looked at him. "What?"

"Until this situation is resolved," He said as he strolled toward her. "You are going to be staying at my house, with me."

"But, I have my own place."

"You said he knows where you live."

She flinched and immediately dropped her gaze. "I won't be any safer at your house." She said before meeting his eye again. "I won't be safe until he's dead."

Eric arched a brow and said rather arrogantly, "Then I'll kill him."

He noted her instant disbelief and skepticism. It surprised him. "Why?" She asked in a tone to match. "This isn't your problem. Why would you bother?" He didn't immediately respond. "Just so I stay here working for you, or so you can keep drinking my blood?"

Eric was suddenly presented with an opportunity. He could do one of two things: either lie and manipulate her as he would with anyone else to get what he wanted. Or, he could tell the truth. He'd done it once before and got his way, but he risked exposing himself more than he was willing.

He surprised himself when he chose the latter.

"Because I want you to keep you." He told her. Her skepticism deepened. "And I don't mean because you were given to me." Eric took a couple steps forward, but still kept some space between them. He could tell she was as uncomfortable as he was. "But I will protect you regardless."

Maria withdrew from him, taking a step away because she needed the distance. He remained where he was and simply watched her. She didn't seem to know what to think and was struggling with her disbelief. He didn't entirely blame her, but it did bother him.

"Is that why you saved me, because you want to keep me?"

He gave her a simple, silent nod.

"What does that even mean?" She was confused and that confusion led to growing anxiety. "You already have me."

"No, I don't. You work for me. It's not the same."

"Jesus Christ," She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. He could hear her heart racing. "You make it sound like you have feelings for me, or something." He didn't reply. Instead, Eric tensed his jaw, forcing the muscle to roll and coil. "Well, stop it." She snapped. Her nerves were all but fried, and he was smart enough to guess why. "You don't like me. That's not what this is. I don't mean anything to you."

He remained silent while she began to pace. He was offended by her outburst given the vulnerability he'd shown, but he knew where it came from. Maria was like him when it came to connections with other people. It was easier to avoid them. It was a side-effect to having the people you actually cared about taken away violently, or stalked by a psychotic murderer.

He understood it, but his pride and ego lamented her reaction.

"I need some air." She mumbled as she headed for the door.

Eric said nothing as she unlocked it and disappeared outside. He was annoyed and angry, and genuinely considering glamoring the entire situation out of her head when he felt a shock of fear.

The distance he traveled to get to Maria was instant. It was a reaction, instinctual, an unconscious decision that brought him to her side milliseconds after he felt it, and he soon saw why. She was frozen in fear, staring directly at the man Eric genuinely thought he'd killed only a few hours prior.

Rasputin stood a few yards from them, still bathed in black clothing, but now with dried blood matting his hair to his head. He stared at Maria with nothing short of rage, an emotion that he showed Eric when he appeared, too.

Eric's fangs immediately snapped into place. He stepped forward, placing himself between Maria and her nightmare.

"Coming here was a mistake." Eric said with a growl. "I'm going to make sure you're dead this time."

Rasputin was completely at ease as he removed his hand from behind his back. He lobbed a powdery substance at Eric, causing the vampire to shield his eyes, but it blanketed him anyway.

Eric was instantly angry and swatted at his body to remove the mystery substance as best he could, but it clung to him as though it had a mind of its own.

"Vampires," Rasputin sneered.

Eric shot him a furious glare. He only managed to take a step toward the sorcerer before he felt something tickle the back of his throat. It was such an odd sensation that it caused him to pause.

"You think you are so powerful," he continued, "but you are only dead flesh."

Something was wrong. Eric felt a light sizzle and he didn't know why. He glanced at his hands. They were still covered in the powder, but everything it touched was beginning to melt. His skin was bubbling and burning. Eric could only compare it to the way peroxide reacted on a cut, except this was beginning to eat away at his flesh.

He felt it everywhere the powder touched –his hands, his neck, his face, and his airways. Even his eyes were beginning to burn.

"No!" He heard Maria scream.

Eric felt his strength flee his body in one swift blow. He crumbled to the pavement and struggled to keep from touching anything.

Maria appeared in front of him. She looked terrified as she looked at him. God only knew how horrifying the scene was. When she reached forward to touch him, he jerked away.

"Don't," he told her. His voice was hoarse and broken, damaged from the powder.

Maria spun to face Rasputin. "What did you do?!"

"Killed him." Rasputin replied coldly. "Slowly, and painfully."

Her eyes were wide when they turned back to him, fill with fear, but no longer regarding the man standing behind her. Eric kept her gaze and saw her eyes well with tears.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "I'm so sorry." When she blinked, they tenderly fell down her cheeks.

Eric couldn't help himself. Perhaps he was simply more comfortable nestled within his sarcasm.

"Are those for me?" He asked with a semi-joking tone. "I didn't know you cared."

She scowled at him, which was what he'd hoped she'd do, but the reaction was short-lived. For those few seconds, they'd forgotten about the real trouble.

Eric didn't see him until another collar, like the one from before, appeared around Maria's neck. She reacted instantly, threading her fingers through the gap between it and her neck as just as she was yanked violently backward.

"NO!" She screamed.

She kicked and fought as she was being dragged away, and all Eric could think was _why isn't she fighting harder?_ He knew she was strong and that she was a thrope, so he didn't understand why she had such trouble fighting against the human sorcerer.

Eric rose on his feet with every intention of following, only to fall to his knees once more.

"Let her-" His words were cut short by something crawling up his throat. Eric coughed to relieve the blockage. It was blood, so much blood, that poured from his throat.

"Let me go!" Maria cried out. "I need to help him!"

Rasputin jerked the collar sharply, forcing Maria onto her back. Eric heard her head bounce off the pavement. Temporarily stunned, she'd gone motionless which let Grigori stand over her.

"He will rot and die." He spat hatefully. "And there will be _no one_ to come save you now. We are meant to be together. You. Are. Mine!"

Grigori grabbed the collar once more and used it to roll Maria onto her stomach. He struggled with the lock and as he did, Maria's eyes fell to Eric. He met her gaze unblinkingly. He felt the skin on his face boil and slide off the bone. He felt himself rotting and judging by the look on her face, it was horrible.

"You will never escape me again, l'vitsa. Ever."

Rasputin jerked her from side to side as he maneuvered the lock, and it seemed to shock Maria back into the moment. Eric saw the moment her "flight or fight" response became "fight".

"No!"

Her scream echoed through the air, but it was twisted and unnatural. It was inhuman, like her.

Eric watched it happen in startling detail even though his vision was blurring. An animal tore through Maria's skin, shredding it and her clothing as it made its way into the world. Maria's angry cry turned into a deep, vicious roar that belonged to a terrifying creature.

Rasputin shot back from the lion Maria had become. She was enormous, standing tall enough that her head reached the center of Rasputin's chest, and the man himself was only two, perhaps three, inches shorter than Eric.

She was swathed in dusky grey fur, speckled with sparse spots, with paws that rivaled a car's hubcaps. A black line ran from beneath her black-lined eyes to her jaw, while tufts of fur sprouted from the tips of pointed ears.

She squared herself on Rasputin and let loose another furious roar, revealing undeniably dangerous teeth. Maria's ears dropped and her head dipped. She dug her paws into the asphalt and launched herself toward the sorcerer, but never made contact. While she was fast, Rasputin darted out of the way.

Eric couldn't take his eyes off her. It was an incredible sight, but the sound of another vicious animal forced his attention to divert. A few yards from her, shaking off the black fabric that was once his clothing, stood another equally large beast.

In that moment, Eric suddenly knew why Maria had been so afraid, and Rasputin was so possessive. Against him, her supernatural strength meant nothing, because he was the same creature. And he wanted her for the same reason. He wanted a mate. _That _was why he was still alive after so many years, and why Eric had been unable to kill him, too.

What followed the shocking revelation was perhaps the most violent fight Eric had ever witnessed. The two lions charged for one another with claws and teeth bared. They would rear back onto their hind legs and swat their incredible paws at their opponent, the sound of which was so intense that Eric felt it in his chest. They slashed at each other, bit and tore at their opponent's flesh, but Eric didn't know who was who. His vision was still fading and they looked too similar, a problem added to by their intense speed.

"Oh my God," Pam's voice met his ears a second before she appeared in front of him. "What-"

"Don't," He choked out as she reached for him, but he didn't manage to get the warning out quickly enough.

Her hand touched his shoulders for only a second, but that was more than enough for the powder to transfer. She felt its affects quickly, too. Thankfully, she hadn't been doused in it.

"The fuck is this?" She asked as she frantically tried to wipe it off. "And what the fuck is that?"

Eric tried to say Maria's name and it might have left his lips, but he wasn't sure.

"Jesus," Pam muttered in shock.

The two vampires could do nothing while the animals fought. One was too weak to move, and the other was too stunned.

Through his bleary vision, Eric saw flashes of blood and fur fly. He saw one of the creatures swipe its paw across the other's face before diving at its throat. He heard the one lion choke just as its throat was ripped out completely. The first lion, with a face now stained crimson, wasn't finished. While its opponent struggled to breathe, it threw its body against it, knocking the bleeding feline to the ground.

The dominant lion immediately tore into the second's ribcage and began to chew. The sound of mewling cries and crunching bones was deafening and didn't end until the dominant lion tore the heart from the other's chest. Even in his state, Eric could tell what the red object being ground in the cat's mouth was.

And then the monster turned its attention on him and Pam.

Eric's stomach curled and his heart sank. Rasputin killed her. Maria was dead and there would be no saving her with his blood this time. There would be no saving himself, either. He only hoped Pam would be smart enough to save herself.

A thousand thoughts and emotions swirled within him, but each was as pointless as the last. There was nothing he could do about them, whether it was regret or sadness.

The last thing he saw was the lion's massive paws bringing it ever-closer. And then the world went dark.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN:** Hi guys! Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, lol. Here's the next, and the last of my pre-written ones. It might take me a little longer to come up with new chapters, but hopefully no more than a week. That whole "memory" thing is giving me a hard time. Anyway, I hope you'll let me know what you think of this one and, as always of course, enjoy!

**Chapter 22**

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Pam's voice turned almost shrill when it hit a certain volume, and now was no different. Maria couldn't pay attention to it, however. She had to get Eric inside.

"Don't touch him!" She said the instant she was human again. "We have to wash off the powder."

Naked and covered on blood, Maria raced for Eric. She immediately threaded her arms under his and lifted his limp body. He was bleeding from everywhere and looked like someone had thrown battery acid on him. Most of his skin had melted away revealing the muscle beneath, and still the powder ate. Maria might not have known what it was exactly, but she knew it only affected the dead, and that she had to get it off of Eric before it managed to kill him.

Fangtasia had a shower, but it wasn't like the ones in a person's home. Instead, it was more closely related to those in a locker room –an opening with a curtain, drain, and showerhead. There was room in it, and that was what she needed.

Pam held open whatever doors she could despite the state her hands were in. Maria was grateful the blond didn't try to touch Eric again because she most definitely would be even more infected.

The moment she had him in the shower stall, Maria turned on the water and began to strip off his clothing. She could see everywhere the dust had landed, and it was a substantial amount of real estate.

His shirt was shredded and discarded quickly, and while Maria struggled to do the same with his slacks, Pam removed his shoes, then tugged them down, leaving Eric in his boxers. She'd washed her hands beneath the torrent of water cascading from the showerhead afterward and calmed a bit when her wounds began to heal, but the instant her eyes landed on Eric, the anxiety returned.

The water was strong enough that it washed away not only the powder, but the affected skin. It made him look so much worse and Pam's panic only served to amp up Maria's.

"Why isn't he healin'?" She asked desperately.

"He can't." Maria said.

She put her back to the cold tile wall and pulled Eric into her lap, securing him between her legs with his back to her chest so they were hit by the majority of the water.

Blood, degrading muscle, and broken skin peeled away and flowed into the open drain. It was a heart wrenching sight, stomach-turning even for the two hardened women.

He was so weak that he wasn't even trembling, something he'd done before when burned severely by the sun, and that scared them both. Maria knew blood was all that could help him and he wasn't able to bite, so she cut into her wrist with her thumbnail and placed it to his parted lips.

"Come on," She growled in frustration, but he wasn't drinking. Maria couldn't even be certain the blood was making it into his mouth with the sheer volume of water that was falling over them. "Goddamn it, you stubborn ass, drink!"

Seconds ticked by and nothing changed. Pam was pacing with her hands on her hips. It was nervous energy and Maria understood. She wished she could do the same.

"If you don't save him, so help me God-"

"Shut up," Maria hissed hatefully as she glared up at Pam. The towering blond glared back. "I need…" Maria's mind raced as she struggled to come up with a plan. "A glass, big, and a knife… and a hose."

"The fuck are you goin' on about?"

"If he can't eat, we'll force-feed him."

Pam left, but not without muttering a few angry words under her breath about her disdain for Maria. Again, she didn't blame the blonde. If Pam loved Eric half as much as Eric loved Godric, she knew Pam was reacting out of fear, something Maria felt, too.

While Pam searched frantically for the supplies Maria needed, she continued to try and force any blood into Eric's mouth. The longer he went without showing any signs of healing, the closer she was to crying. If he died because of her, Maria knew she wouldn't forgive herself.

High tension situations like the one she currently found herself in had a tendency of bringing emotions to the foreground, emotions that the individual had probably tried to hide. It revealed the truth of things, really.

And the truth was, Maria was afraid to lose Eric. He was arrogant, an asshole, didn't know when to shut his fucking mouth, self-centered, only did things for his benefit no matter who it hurt or pissed off, he was greedy and possessive, and borderline obsessive, too. He had every terrible characteristic a person could possibly have, but it didn't seem to matter to her. Not right then, at least.

Maria had been inside Eric's head. A benefit to what she could do (if someone was so inclined as to look for one) was Maria knew a person fully and completely. She knew them better than they were willing to admit they knew themselves. She could see everything from the first memory formed in childhood until the millisecond she made contact with them, so everything was laid bare, and it was no different with Eric.

Maria had seen and felt how he loved his parents, and how he adored his little sister. She'd seen every important relationship he'd ever formed, and how each subsequent death affected him. She saw that, even though he was jaded by a thousand years of life, Eric Northman still cared as deeply as he did when he was human when someone managed to break their way in.

Because of that, Maria foolishly saw beyond the dick-ish exterior sometimes. She didn't appreciate it, really, because in moments like this, it made her care so much.

"I swear to whatever God there is," Maria whispered sternly into his ear while she kept her bleeding wrist to his mouth, "if you die because of me, I'll kill you."

He didn't react, nor did she expect him to. Although, it genuinely wouldn't shock her completely if, despite the flesh-eating powder, he was coherent enough to hear what people were saying about it.

An instant later, Pam reappeared with a pint glass, a giant butcher's knife, and a beer bong. The beer bong was the most surprising bit. Maria couldn't remember ever seeing one in Fangtasia.

"I think you can turn the water off, now." She said.

After setting everything down, Pam smacked the water off almost hard enough to break the tap. Maria watched Eric closely, watched for the fizzing and bubbling to return. When it hadn't, she was relieved, but didn't let herself relax.

"Now what?" Pam snapped.

Still cradling Eric with her right arm, Maria offered Pam her left. "What do you think?"

Pam arched a brow at Maria's cold, demanding tone, but said nothing. Instead, she knelt by Maria's side, grabbed the knife and positioned the glass beneath Maria's arm. She looked up at the brunette.

In her usual tone, she said, "This'll hurt."

Maria stared back sarcastically. It was the only warning Pam gave, and she gave it with her typical sass. Maria was almost relieved by it. Somehow, Pam's tone was reassuring.

Holding onto Maria's wrist, Pam brought the blade angrily across Maria's arm, slicing so deeply into her skin that Maria was fairly certain the blond hit bone. Before the cut, Maria had clenched her fist. Afterward, she lost all motor function. Pam had sliced through her muscles and tendons.

Blood poured from the wound and into the glass. It took a couple of moments, but when it was filled, Pam took it and the beer bong in hand. Maria helped as best she could, bleeding all over the place as she held Eric's head back. Together, they guided the tube down his throat. Pam promptly dumped the contents of the pint glass into the funnel. While it slowly drained, she bent down and put the glass back on the floor, holding the tube up with the other. Maria put her bleeding arm over the glass to fill it again.

Two glasses. It took two full glasses of fresh blood taken from the vein for Eric to show even the slightest hint of recovery. It was minimal, but happening. Pam and Maria continued to force-feed him.

By the fourth glass, Maria had trouble keeping her head up, and her eyes open. She felt dizzy, which wasn't entirely surprising, but Eric's muscles had reformed and his skin was slowly but surely doing the same. The visible damage was still substantial, though.

"You need blood."

Pam's level, deadpan voice drew Maria's attention up. The blond was standing overhead holding the beer bong in place and watching the blood within trickle out of sight.

"I'm fine." Maria replied, barely able to hold her bleeding arm over the glass as it refilled.

"You're heartbeat's slowed down." Pam said, turning an annoyed gaze on the young woman. "A lot."

She didn't sound worried or interested, which made Maria grin for some reason.

"I'll heal." She said. Her voice, however, sounded much heavier than normal. "Just this last one, and he should be fine."

"Hm," Pam muttered.

But she did as Maria said. When the glass was filled once more, she dumped the contents of it down Eric's throat and set the glass aside.

Maria looked down at her arm. It was still cut open, but the cut had healed a little. The blood flow had slowed, at least, so she knew she'd be alright –possibly. The way it ran across the tile was interesting to her, though. It was thin and sparse, trapped in puddles of water from the showerhead, or diverted into paths dictated by the grout.

It was beautiful, in a way –hypnotic- and the last thing she saw before she passed out.

* * *

Eric didn't expect to wake up, let alone wake up with skin on his body.

Slowly, and still feeling heavy, Eric sat up. He was in his boxers, lying on a bench which he stuck to briefly as he rose. His body ached, but it ached in the way exhaustion tended to affect someone. It wasn't actual pain.

His skin was damp, what little clothing he wore was just plain wet, and he had no idea what was happening. The last thing she remembered was seeing Maria's heart being eaten.

The door that led to the back opened. It was Pam, stunned into silence the moment she saw him standing.

"Oh," She said on a breath. A smile began to spread across her lips. "You're awake."

Pam approached and immediately wrapped her arms around him. He smiled softly to himself and returned the affection before they parted. When they did, Pam returned to examining him again.

"You still need a little more blood, but, you're lookin' better." She told him, gently touching his cheek.

He smirked again, but his mind raced as he began to put things together. He remembered what had happened in clearer detail than before and his jaw hardened.

"Maria," He said.

"She's in your office." Pam said with a small nod.

Eric's brows pulled together. He hadn't expected that to be the answer and reacted instinctively. He stepped around Pam and quickly made his way to his office. There, he found not only some clothing waiting for him to change into, but Maria asleep (or possibly dead) on the couch beneath a blanket.

She was naked save the fabric draped over her, and she looked terrible. There was a large gash in her arm that had bled through the wrapping around it, and across her shoulder was the tail end of an angry slash mark. She bore clear signs of the fight that had happened outside and more, and it filled him not only with relief, but anger.

Pam entered the office behind him and soon joined his side. "Why didn't you heal her?"

"She wouldn't let me." Pam replied. "I put some in the cuts, though."

"Hm," He grumbled. "Leave us."

He felt her cast him an annoyed glance, but she complied as she always did. When he heard the click of his door close behind her, Eric moved to the couch. He lifted Maria into his arms and positioned her in his lap, cradling her gently to his chest.

As he looked down at her, he felt both pride and relief. He couldn't express how glad he was that she'd not only survived, but killed her nightmare. That she'd saved him was simply a byproduct.

Eric bit into his wrist and pressed it to her lips. As it tended to, it took a moment before he felt her begin to drink on her own, but when she did, Eric was able to watch the slashes and gashes across her skin slowly shrink away. When they were finally gone, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Eric smirked a little as he tended to, and arched a brow.

Maria let go of his wrist and attempted to sit up on her own until she realized she was barely shielded by a blanket.

"Oh god." She scrambled to cover herself. "I'm still naked."

"Yes, you are." He didn't bother removing the thick innuendo-type tone from his voice.

Maria instantly blushed, turning a vibrant shade of red beneath the blood still smeared across her skin. He chuckled a bit.

"Shower?" He asked.

"Um, yeah," Maria mumbled the words.

She immediately scrambled out of his lap, still holding the blanket close to her body, and scuttled away. Eric couldn't keep from musing over the whole ordeal.

* * *

Maria was glad for the shower. She felt a bit disgusting, really. Not only was her body covered in dried blood, but she felt gross because of what she'd done. There was a sadness that came with killing one of her own that she hadn't expected, a sort of emptiness because she'd contributed to her species' extinction, but the relief was very real, too.

Still, now that she wasn't being hunted, and never could be again, she wasn't sure what to do.

When she emerged from the shower wearing the Fangtasia shirt she'd taken in there with her, she was greeted by Eric sitting not far off wearing his own clothing. She was surprised to see him because the clock behind the bar said it was nearly nine-thirty in the morning and she could see traces of blood in his ears. Then again, the blood was a better alternative. His skin still had patches of open sores. For whatever reason, it seemed as though the powder Rasputin had used on him wouldn't allow him to heal without blood in his system. He'd have to feed again.

"You need to go to ground." She told him.

"I'm fine."

"You're really not." She was blunt. "You look like shit still."

Eric grinned, which she found a little odd. He didn't even remark on her comment. Maria began to shift on her feet.

"I'm uh," She was uncomfortable for a few reasons, but couldn't quite land on one. "I'm going to go home and get some sleep. I can," She motioned to her face, silently referencing his, "I can heal that tonight."

"Okay," He nodded.

A short bought of silence moved between them. He seemed entirely at ease, which annoyed her a bit.

"So… bye."

"Bye,"

"Right," She mumbled. Maria turned on her heel and left.

The sun felt good on her skin and just before running toward home, Maria caught sight of a large blood stain on the ground. There was no body, though, no remnant husk of the creature she'd killed. Maria only wondered briefly if Pam had been the one to dispose of it before she left.

* * *

She felt something trail down her cheek, a soft sort of touch that brought her only partially into the world. It still, somehow, left her in a daze. When she opened her eyes to see Eric was the cause, she knew immediately she was in another blood-fueled dream.

He leaned over her, one hand planted on the bed to keep him propped up, and the other touching her cheek. He smiled down at her a bit.

"You're still sleeping." He told her in a soft voice. "It's late."

"How late?" She asked, adjusting herself to lie on her back. He barely adjusted himself to allow her, still remaining close.

"Past eleven."

"Hm," Her eyes drifted over him. "You still look terrible."

He smiled. "Then maybe you should do something about it?"

She said nothing more and simply rolled her head to the side. As she knew he would, Eric closed the distance between them. No sooner than she felt the weight of his cold body against hers, his fangs pierced the side of her neck. Maria took in a sharp breath, but relaxed shortly after.

As he fed, Maria threaded her fingers through his hair. Her eyes drifted shut and a soft sigh left her lips.

The shift happened like it always did, gradual while at the same time suddenly. Just the same, it was always there and always strong when it happened, and given she was in a dream, Maria always allowed it.

Eric fed for a moment longer. When she felt his tongue sweep over the wound, she knew he'd healed it, and that he was finished. He drew back from her, but only just. He was sure to keep his forehead against her skin until it was pressed to hers. Maria was breathing heavily, filled with a number of emotions that always accompanied a feeding as well as having so much of his blood in her system.

"Thank you," His voice was barely above a whisper.

"For what?" She asked just as quietly.

Maria expected him to say any number of things, but he didn't actually offer an answer. Instead, Eric brushed his lips across hers only a second before he kissed her. Maria returned the sentiment despite tasting her blood on his tongue. The coppery flavor bothered her less and less as time went on. She'd grown so accustomed to feeding from Eric through the months that it was hardly noticed.

She continued to kiss him, deeply and passionately, when she felt the sudden brush of air as Eric threw her blanket aside. He slid onto the bed, taking its place over her, and sending an immediately chill through her body.

An undeniably strong and icy hand slid beneath her shirt. It caused her to gasp, breaking their kiss. Eric instantly chuckled at her expense, filling her with a small wave of agitation. Whether she wanted to "teach him a lesson" or not, Maria threw her weight into him, rolling them on the bed until she was on top.

He could have overpowered her. He could have stopped her. But he didn't. Instead, he grinned up at her with a distinct glint of pride in his eye. With her hair hanging around her face, she smirked back, a wicked smile curling her lips.

Eric held her hips firmly, pressing her against him before gliding them up her sides and beneath her shirt again. Maria ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip, barely able to suppress a giggle when she leaned forward and kissed him again.

The desire between them was growing by the second, filled with everything they (or at least she) kept hidden every day.

Eric's hands continued to explore her, his fingertips digging into back while he raked his blunt fingernails down her skin. She felt a bulge growing in his lap, one he had no issue grinding her against, sending shocks of pleasure through her each time.

Everything was hitting a fever pitch when, suddenly, Maria shot up. She was breathing heavily as she always was, her heart racing faster than a speeding train.

"Oh, holy shit," She mumbled in shock. "This is real, isn't it?"

Eric, smiling arrogantly from his place on the bed, arched a brow at her. He sat up, his face mere inches from hers.

"Looks that way."

"Oh…"


	23. Chapter 23

**AN:** Short, but it felt like a good place to end it. Besides, it's all smut. Literally, the whole chapter is basically smut. lol. Let me know what you guys think and ENJOY!

P.S. **smutty smut-smut.**

**Chapter 23**

Her shirt disappeared, pulled away and tossed somewhere else. Eric's shirt was soon to join it. Not an instant later, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest. The chill it spread through her was immediate, and invigorating. His skin was in such stark contrast to her own that Maria felt goose-bumps form.

She stared into those stormy-grey eyes as they stared back unblinkingly. There were no secrets hidden there anymore, nothing she didn't know, and she was allowed to enjoy them and their chaotic beauty.

His gaze danced over her face and she couldn't decide what sort of hunger they held. It could have been the obvious, or it could have been the literal. Either way, she rather liked that it was aimed at her.

Eric kissed her again. A hand found its way into her hair, where he fisted it. The shock of it sent pleasure rippling down her spine. Maria didn't care anymore. She didn't care about what would happen beyond the walls of her bedroom. She didn't care about how awkward things would most likely become afterward. Maria simply wanted what she wanted in that moment, and for the first time in her very long life, she decided to take it.

While the passionate moment threatened to consume her and his hands explored her, Maria reached between her and Eric. Her fingers went to work on his zipper, and only a second later, it was undone. There was no hesitation.

The instant she felt him inside, Maria let out a strangled gasp. Their kiss broke and Maria genuinely struggled to breathe. Her eyes were slammed shut and her grip on Eric tightened to the point that it would break a normal man. The truth was, not only was Eric Northman an impressive specimen in _every_ respect, but Maria hadn't been with a man since 8-track tapes were a thing. It led to sensory overload and a brain temporarily out of order. She could do nothing but attempt to find some form of focus.

Eric seemed unwilling to offer her the slightest respite, however, and whether she was ready for it or not, began to move. Another soft whimper escaped her, but her body had gone mostly lax giving him the ability to move her as he saw fit.

With his arms still around her body, Eric rolled the pair until her back was against the mattress again. It gave him all the control she'd once had.

Eric adjusted only a bit, likely shoving his slacks further out of the way while he propped himself over her. Not long after, he began to move again. He was slow at first, almost tender, which she could appreciate and was grateful for.

A hand pinned her hips to the mattress while his speed increased. Maria clung to Eric's back. She had no doubt, even in her fading mind, that her fingernails had pierced his skin. They were too sharp not to, more like claws than human fingernails –and she was holding him so tight.

Eric's speed soon increased and with it her body began to pulse. Each heartbeat thundered through her, pumping her blood through her veins so quickly that she could hear it in her ears. It was almost too loud for her to hear Eric's heavy breaths.

As he continued, Maria felt tensions rise within her and knew it wouldn't be long. Eric seemed to sense the same and worked harder for it. His free hand disappeared between them, stroking her where she was most sensitive. The same instant, she felt the pinpricks of his fangs on her neck. Suddenly so filled with pleasure and the simple thought of being bitten was all it took for her to be pushed over the edge.

Eric timed it perfectly. He bit into her neck the moment an orgasm tore through Maria's body. The purest pleasure mixed with the sharp ache of his bite and it was more than enough for Maria to lose herself completely. She barely registered Eric's subdued growled or that his body had gone rigid as well as he succumbed.

Minutes passed, maybe longer, before Eric drew back and hovered over her again. His large, cold hand sweeping some of the hair out of her face was what prompted Maria to open her eyes, and look up at him. Her blood painted his lips and for whatever reason, Maria wanted to touch them. When she did, oddly delighted to see it, she noticed blood on her own fingers. It was Eric's, they both knew.

With her eyes locked to his, she tenderly placed a finger in her mouth and sucked the blood away. Eric's grin returned. He tenderly took her hand in his and watched her finger retreat her lips before he too licked his blood away from her digits.

Maria smiled, delighting in the feeling of his tongue against her skin. When he'd finished, he kissed her again, and she reciprocated in kind.

* * *

Eric didn't know what time it was until he somehow glanced the clock hanging over Maria's faux fireplace on the other side of the room. It was almost four-thirty in the morning, less than four hours until sunrise.

He rolled his head to the side. Maria was lying on her back. One arm was draped over her head on the pillow, her eyes were closed, and she was breathing heavily. That made him grin to himself, as well as the light sheen of sweat gracing her skin. That's why he loved having sex with the living. They had reactions vampires didn't. They were a much better gauge as to whether or not he'd done a good job. If Maria's current state was anything to go by, he'd done wonderfully.

Her heart was still thrumming away, a soft hum no matter how much she tried to steady it. He felt compelled to reach over and touch her again. Even though he laid roughly a foot, perhaps two, away from her and could still feel the heat emanating from her skin, he wanted to feel it more intensely. There was no other way to describe it, really. Thropes, like weres, burned so much hotter than a human, and there was something intoxicating about the feel of it. Until that point, he'd foolishly thought drinking her blood was the same. It wasn't.

Before he could decide what to do, Maria rolled her head to the side to look at him. She looked so tired and worn, but entirely satiated. That was another vampires couldn't do. Their level of stamina meant they were never truly tired, not like Maria was at that moment.

"I'm sticky." She told him in a voice that reflected the way she looked.

Eric chuckled a little. He couldn't help it. There was no way she wasn't sticky. He probably was, too. Between sweat and blood and other things, they were both likely very sticky. They'd been at it for hours, after all.

"I think I'm going to take a shower."

He grinned internally that she was phrasing her statement as an uncertainty. She wasn't asking permission or anything so blatant, but there was a tone that made it sound as though she wasn't entirely certain about leaving him there on his own.

"Okay," He replied.

She looked over him only briefly before getting out of bed and walking away. He watched her as she left, naked as the day she was born, and without a care. He rather liked it.

Eric remained in her bed, far too comfortable to bother moving. He thought back to what had transpired since he walked through her door. He'd gone to Maria's with the intent to thank her for saving his life and because he was so proud of her. Feeding was a secondary thought.

He really was proud of what she'd done. It was a strange sort of feeling. He'd been proud of Pam before, the way a father is proud of their child. And he'd been proud of Nora as well, but they were his family. They shared the same blood he did, one way or another. Maria didn't. She was an outsider, and yet, he felt something for her –stronger than he had for anyone else outside of his personal circle. It was almost as though he was growing as a person. Strange thought…

In the distance, he heard the shower running, and another thought entered his mind. He was surprised that he felt a bit addicted at the moment, likely still spun-up on Maria's blood. At least, that was how he rationalized it for the time being. The truth was, Eric simply loved sex.

He rose from Maria's bed and crossed the room and hall. The door to the bathroom wasn't locked and gave way easily under his guidance. Steam filled the small space and to the right, through the semi-translucent shower curtain, he saw Maria's outline. Desire surged through him again.

She had her back to the showerhead and looked as though she was rinsing her hair. Tenderly, Eric parted the curtain and peered inside. He instantly had to fight back a groan.

Maria's body was perfect, regardless of the scars her former tormenter left behind. Despite her ample frame, he could see real muscle –tight and strong- beneath her milky skin. It made sense given what she was that she was an animal made of pure muscle, but her body wasn't hard, and that's what he liked.

Rivulets of water cascaded down her, carrying small bubbles along her curves before they disappeared into the shower drain. He liked the way it made her skin glisten and genuinely considered licking a trail or two, but he didn't. Instead, he stepped back.

From his stance outside the curtain, Eric watched as Maria faced the showerhead again. He used it as a chance to slip into the shower behind her. She never seemed to notice until he touched a space between her shoulders, bare since she'd draped her hair around the front. Maria jumped, but he expected as much. He saw her turn her head just enough to the side that he could see her in profile, then went still.

Eric let his fingers glide down her spine where they ended at her tailbone. He then guided them back up slowly. Her skin prickled briefly under his touch before it disappeared again shortly after.

He chewed on his bottom lip as hunger surged within him again. Still tenderly touching her, he brought both hands forward. Eric was less coy about grabbing her chest and pulling her to him, ensuring her back was tight against his body. The scent of her skin was intoxicating and it stirred even more inside him.

He massaged her chest, molded the malleable flesh within his strong fingers. Her heart thundered against him to the point he could lie and say it was his own. Maria relaxed into his touch. His excitement continued to grow to the point he was sure she felt it digging into her back.

"Again?" She asked, her voice soft and sultry without her bothering to try.

Eric shifted one of his hands up until he could wrap it easily around her throat. He guided her head back just a bit while at the same time trailing his tongue up her neck. Her pulse fluttered beneath her skin.

"Yes," He whispered in a gruff voice. Eric bit tenderly on her earlobe. Maria gasped. "Until we've had enough."

He could hear her smile in her words when she asked, "When will that be?"

Eric guided her head back completely. Given his superior height, it wasn't hard for him to reach her lips.

"Never," He whispered against them just before he kissed her again.

* * *

Maria's body was heavy, so very, _very_ heavy. It felt entirely emptied, as though all of her energy had left her. Eric wore her out more than she thought it was even possible. Thropes had incredible stamina, and Eric Northman had managed to deplete all of it.

Since her own sheets were in desperate need of washing, Maria had chosen to lie in one of the guest bedrooms. It was the one she'd offered Eric but he never used, so the sheets were still deliciously fresh. They felt good against her skin.

Eric had gone back to Fangtasia to see how business had been that night. The club was already closed for the evening and he hadn't set foot in it once. He thought he should pay a visit before Pam called him with a rant about him shirking his responsibilities.

Maria stretched out beneath the sheets and groaned happily when her muscles relaxed just a bit before she curled up again on her side. As she cradled her pillow beneath her head, couldn't help but smile. She'd spent the whole night having sex. That was an odd enough thing for her to experience, but it was with a man she'd sworn upon meeting that she'd never sleep with.

And damn it if he wasn't _really_ good.

She was falling asleep, drifting to the point that she was almost gone, when the bed behind her shifted. She already knew who it was the moment she smelled him. His cologne was expensive and subtle, but distinctive.

He reached for her and pulled her to him, even rolling Maria over until she could lie on his chest. She wondered if he thought she was sleeping and simply let him believe it.

Eric went still beneath her seconds later, and she adjusted herself only briefly before falling asleep finally.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: **I love the feedback! Keep it coming. :) Let me know what you think, and please enjoy!

**Chapter 24**

It'd been a few months since Eric and Maria had first slept together. As far as she was concerned, nothing had truly changed. She still worked at Fangtasia. She was still at his side when he needed her there. Everything was still the same, and she appreciated that.

Maria felt better now, better than she had in a long time. She was free. The Albatross that had once been hanging around her neck was gone, permanently. She'd eaten his heart, felt it burst within her mouth like a cherry. Their kind might be able to heal from a lot of things, a lot of injuries and pains, but not that. _Nothing_ could survive that, not even vampires.

Being so free now, Maria had embraced the world she found herself in. She even dressed the part of someone working in Fangtasia, though she didn't go to the same extent as Pam and Ginger. She still had standards and, genuinely, didn't think she would like being wrapped in faux, glistening fabric. Dresses like the one Pam had stuck her in the night she was forced to dance, however, those she liked, and she was wearing that same one that night.

Maria was heading to Eric's office with an envelope of money in her hand. The register was too full, so she had to take the large bills and surplus to his safe. Hopefully, no one would be stupid enough to attempt a robbery, but that wasn't entirely the issue. A register's drawer was only so big.

With practiced ease, Maria entered the empty office, and stepped behind the desk where his safe was firmly bolted to the floor. She didn't know the combination, but it wasn't needed. His safe, at least this one, was the type used in most businesses. It had a slot through which to feed bills, bills that were tabulated and stored within the safe's memory. Handy little thing. It made stealing after depositing the money much harder.

It was tedious, though, feeding in individual bills one after another –especially hen business was as good as it was in Fangtasia.

After a few minutes of depositing the money, Maria was given a flash of numbers across the small screen telling her how much she'd given the safe -1,832 dollars.

Maria rose to her feet, dusted off her knees out of habit, and headed for the door. She never sensed him enter the office behind her. She had no idea she was being stalked.

Without warning, Maria was shoved against the wall. She hit with a grunt, held in place by a very hard and very strong, unmovable thing. Eric's arm was across the back of her shoulders, forcing her chest against the wall so she couldn't move.

"Let go of me." She hissed, sure to add the feline crackle to her words.

"No," He growled back.

She felt Eric begin to shove her dress up until it was bunched above her hips. The sound of his belt barely met her ears before, suddenly, he thrust inside her. Maria instantly cried out a sound that held no pain what-so-ever. She pressed her forehead against the wall and wished she had something to grasp onto, if anything just to steady herself.

Eric held her just right for him, one arm around her waist, and proceeded to drive into her. His forehead was pressed to the crown of her head so she heard his heavy breathing. The way he grunted with each thrust and the way his fingers clenched into her body drove her crazy. He was acting almost manic and animalistic. He was acting possessed, as though he wanted her so badly he'd lost control over himself, and that was intoxicating to her. No one had ever wanted her like that, who she wanted, too.

Whimpering words flew from her lips as he continued to thrust into her. As she felt her orgasm near, Maria raked her fingernails down the wall, tearing through the drywall with ease.

Eric grasped her body almost cruelly, kneading into everything he could. It only fueled the moment. Everything was so primal and driven by lust that she was losing herself.

Maria reached behind her head, cradling him close. She was desperate to steady herself on anything, but it didn't matter in the least. Eric had learned how to touch her and did to her benefit. Within seconds, Maria's body exploded. She tried to keep herself quiet at first, but almost instantly decided she didn't care who heard her.

As she swam in euphoria, Maria felt Eric follow her into it, releasing himself shortly after.

He was breathing heavily in her ear, and while she knew it was likely for no reason, she appreciated the sentiment.

They remained still for a moment or two before Eric drew back. Maria lingered longer, grinning to herself over what had happened. As she finally turned, pushing her dress back into place, she noticed him smiling smugly as he buttoned his slacks again.

"You're starting to make working here very difficult." She told him.

Eric scoffed a small laugh. When he was presentable again, he approached Maria. He looked at her for only a second before he swept her up in a breath-stealing kiss. It was brief, but more than enough. He left her shortly after without a glance back.

Her heart raced when he'd gone, and she knew that was the point. She knew half of what he did was to get some sort of reaction from her. It'd been that way since they'd met, and it was only recently that she decided to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

As she made her way to the bathroom to clean up, Maria thought about her and Eric's "relationship". Plainly put, they didn't have one, but it was something. Maria wasn't foolish enough to enough to assume he had any intentions of being exclusive with her. It wasn't in his nature, nor hers. But, for the moment, they were something.

Then again, it was probably all bullshit and she was deluding herself to somehow protect herself from the truth.

After making herself more presentable, Maria left the bathroom and headed for the club once more. As she rounded the corner, she was confronted with Pam. The towering blond was, tonight, made up of one-third makeup, one-third hairspray, and one-third latex. She was an S&M dream, really.

Pam stood in the center of the stark hall, clearly waiting for Maria with her hip popped out and her arms crossed in front of her. A knowing smirk twisted her flamingo-pink lips.

"Breaks over." She said. "I need you behind the bar."

"Fine," Maria replied.

She approached the blonde and then walked past her.

Maria and Eric weren't exactly quiet whenever they had sex at Fangtasia, and given how close he and Pam were, it'd be foolish to assume his progeny wasn't entirely aware of what was going on. As a result, Pam liked to tease Maria about it. Actually, she'd always tease the brunette, but this simply gave her even more ammunition.

More than once Pam had even asked when she'd get a turn. Maria considered her attractive, but women didn't do it for her. Maria had no doubt Pam was skilled, though.

* * *

It was nearing five-thirty in the morning. Fangtasia had been closed for an hour, the protestors were finally gone, the rest of the employees had gone home, and it was now Eric's turn to do the same. After saying farewell to Pam, he sped away from the nightclub and sailed across Shreveport to the older side of town where houses still had land.

The freshly-painted house, gleaming white with black shudders and jasmine growing up trellises that had been affixed to the wrap-around porch, stood on a sloping hill. The porch light was on just for him, and it made him grin.

Eric sauntered up to the house, beyond the motorcycle, and through the front door with a key of his own. He slid it back into his pocket as he jogged lazily up the stairs and diverted his path to Maria's room without a misstep.

She was lying in bed, presumably asleep, when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He was determined to ignore it until she spoke.

"Answer that, please." She told him plainly.

Smirking to himself, he did.

"Northman," He said.

The man on the other end of the line, his lawyer, had some very interesting information for him. Eric was about to leave, to step away so he was far enough Maria wouldn't be able to hear the conversation, but he didn't have the chance. She heard everything already, and sat up. She arched an annoyed brow at him.

Eric gave her an innocent expression and shrugged his shoulders. It didn't have the desired effect, so he wasn't entirely surprised to see her eyes narrow.

"Get me the paperwork." He finally said. "And I'll talk to you tomorrow."

With a farewell, Eric hung up the phone. He slid it back into his leather jacket pocket before sliding the garment off his shoulders.

"What?" He asked casually.

"Are you honestly planning to buy that fucking house?"

Eric's brows rose at the surprising level of animosity in Maria's voice, but as before, he kind of expected it. Months ago, something told him to keep an eye on Sookie's house. Her brother didn't strike Eric as the sort of person who'd be able to hold onto it for the long-term, so Eric acted accordingly. At the time, he didn't have plans, at least nothing solid. Now, however, hearing that it's on the market, his plans might change.

"Maybe." He said as he undid his belt and slid it off.

Maria rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed. "Why bother?"

He began to kick off his shoes and unbutton his jeans. "I don't think she's dead."

"She'd better be."

Eric chuckled to himself. He continued to strip out of his clothing until there was none left, and then approached the bed.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" He openly teased her while he slid into the bed behind Maria.

"Don't flatter yourself, Viking." She replied a bit tersely. He grinned wider as he got comfortable. "Every time that blonde gash makes an appearance, shit goes wrong in a big way." She rolled onto her back to look at him. Eric met her stare. "Why do you want to buy her house?"

She asked the question without any true tone, but he could tell she didn't like the idea. He couldn't say if it was jealousy or not, but she seemed very unhappy with it.

Her reaction surprised him just a bit, but he couldn't pinpoint why. He'd have thought she had nothing to worry about in any regard when it came to Sookie Stackhouse. Maria was attractive, smart, talented, strong, and inhuman. All of them were points toward the positive in his opinion. Then again, he'd seen how she reacted to the fairy. That level of fear and hatred were too deep to ever dissipate.

As he laid there staring at her, Eric's first instinct was to simply lie to her, to tell her what he knew she wanted to hear like he would with anyone else, but somehow managed to stop himself. For months, Eric had been suppressing his instincts and simply told her the truth when she asked.

"Because I want to feed off her." He said simply.

He saw her flinch slightly, but she didn't immediately offer a response, and when she did speak, he could tell she had chosen something other than her first thought.

"Then why buy the house?"

He was slightly confused. "Buy the house, buy the human."

She gave him an odd stare. "That's not how it works." She told him. And then her expression softened and she rolled her eyes. "Then again, flirt with her." Maria turned onto her side again, showing him her back once more. "She'll probably let you feed off her and open her legs, too."

Eric smiled softly to himself as he looked at her. Maria truly didn't like Sookie, but he understood why. Yet, it was that very thing that Eric desired so much. He wondered, albeit briefly, if his intense need to feed from Sookie was the exact sensation, although on the other end of the spectrum, Maria felt when she saw the blonde. On a very basic level, it would make sense. They were just animals, after all.

Eric turned onto his side and inched closer to the young woman beside him. The heat poured off her body and seeped into him. He found that he enjoyed the sensation more and more each time he was near her.

The scent of her hair filled his nose as he buried it within her black locks. Eric snaked his hand under the blanket and then her shirt, resting it in the crook of her waist.

"Tell me you don't want me to buy the house, and I won't." he whispered into her hair.

Maria didn't immediately speak. The longer she remained silent, in fact, the less Eric liked it. He wanted her to tell him not to buy the house. He'd still attempt to convince her that he should because he had every intention of doing it, but he wanted her to tell him no. It might have been the childish part of him, but Eric wanted Maria to be jealous. Something so simple meant she was possessive of him, and he liked the idea of it. He wanted her to be greedy for him because it stroked his pride and fed his ego.

That wasn't what happened, however.

"Do what you like." She told him.

He felt himself scowl his disappointment. Anticlimactic.

* * *

Eric had written a blank check for the people renovating Sookie's house. Whatever needed to be done, from electrical to plumbing, was taken care of. They were trivial things, really. The only real expense was the hideout he had built into the house. It was light-tight and secure. Even if Sookie didn't come back at any point, he could put the house in Maria's name and have somewhere else for him and Pam to be safe.

Still, for some reason, he knew Sookie was alive. Perhaps there was a practical reason. Even though Eric hadn't sensed her in just over a year, Sookie Stackhouse had a surprising ability to keep living despite the odds. He doubted she was dead because no one had been able to kill her yet.

As Eric sat on his throne and let his eyes dance around Fangtasia, they –like most nights- drifted to Maria. She was tending bar with Pam standing not too far behind supervising. There was no need for the blonde to be there, but it amused her to hang over Maria, to antagonize her. Maria never showed whether she was bothered or not.

As he watched the dark-haired young woman, Eric wondered how things would change when Sookie inevitably returned. With her gone, he was able to ignore the fact that he was truly obsessed with Sookie's blood. When he smelled it, he had to call on every bit of the self-control he'd gained through a thousand years of living, and that wasn't insubstantial. But, no matter how stoic he was on the outside, the desire was very real and very strong.

Because he was at least that self-aware, Eric genuinely thought about how things would change because they definitely would, at least to a minor degree. He liked how his life currently was, though. He enjoyed his work and the people who surrounded him. He enjoyed being able to "hunt" Maria and claim her in the end. Theirs was a strange connection, but entirely worth preserving. And Maria wasn't wrong. Things tended to go very badly when Sookie was around.

With that realization came another. Maybe it would be best if Sookie never showed up again?

* * *

It was the middle of the day when she was brought out of her sleep. Eric was awake, sat upright and staring into the distance of her bedroom. Maria opened an eye to look at the odd expression on his face.

"What is it?" She asked, her voice muffled by her pillow.

"Sookie's back."

Maria ground her teeth and growled as she rolled over in bed. She doubted she'd be able to go back to sleep. She felt the fires of anger flash through her body at the mere mention of the blonde's return.

"I give it a week before things get bad." She said.

As she lay there, staring at the double doors that led to her balcony, currently covered by thick curtains, Maria scowled. Fucking Sookie Stackhouse…

* * *

**Season 4, Episode 2**

_You Smell Like Dinner_

Sookie was furious, so furious that she was shaking as she stormed through the doors of Fangtasia. Portia just called her and told her the person behind the purchase of her house. Eric-fucking-Northman!

God damn it!

Sookie pushed through the protestors and threw open the door. She pushed through the people dancing –both vampire and human alike- and headed immediately for the throne where she knew Eric would be sitting. What she hadn't expected however, was what awaited her.

When Sookie stood only a few feet from the dais, she instantly paused. Eric's throne was always in the middle and most nights that was where he could be found. On either side always sat two more smaller, yet equally imposing chairs. They were supposed to be empty. They were _always_ empty, but not tonight.

Sookie was frozen in place when her eyes fell to Eric. On his right, the King's Right Hand, was Pam. To his left sat Maria. The three of them were disarmingly beautiful and statuesque. Eric was a vision in dark fabrics, from his jeans to his shirt, and even his jacket and shoes. His ashen hair was slicked back as per his usual and his jaw was strong. Sitting with his back straight like he was made Sookie's insides quiver. He looked so strong.

Pam was dressed in glittering burgundy. Her makeup was impeccable, her hair ironed straight, and her dress something that only she could pull off. It was sharp, like her. A line cut straight across the chest leaving one side completely bare, but the other shoulder and arm wrapped in fabric. It hugged her curves and looked painted on. Her hosiery, shoes, and even her lipstick matched the vibrant color, and the intense look of uncaring on her face sent waves of cold into the room.

Maria was no less intimidating. Unlike Pam, she was clad in black leather. Her legs were wrapped in the subtly-shining fabric. The boots on her feet matched. Her torso was encircled with a black corset that pushed her bust up, synched her waist to make the angle even more exaggerated. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and her makeup was dusky which made her green eyes glow. She still wore the gloves she always had on, and a silver trinket around her wrist, but Sookie thought the cross that rested between her breasts was in poor tastes. She was surrounded by vampires, after all.

All three of them were pale and perfect and genuinely disturbed Sookie a little bit. The feeling was made all the more prominent when their collective gazes drifted to her. Sookie actually jumped.

An almost sinister smile twisted Eric's lips while Pam arched a brow and Maria glared.

"Well, well, well," Eric practically cooed the words. "Look who's back."

It took her a moment, but Sookie soon found footing. She straightened herself and approached the trio of unnatural creatures. She kept her gaze on Eric.

"You bought my house."

"I did." He grinned wider.

Sookie crossed her arms over her chest. "I want it back."

Eric chuckled. When he spoke again, it wasn't in English. It was in that language she didn't understand, but apparently Pam and Maria did because Pam grinned wickedly while Maria rolled her eyes. Sookie's gaze danced between the three. Pam said something back, and then Maria added to it, but Sookie didn't know what the hell they were saying and it made her angry.

"English, please!" She snapped.

None of them seemed the slightest bit put out by her response, but Eric stood. He motioned toward the back room, walked past her, and soon vanished through the door. Sookie looked over her shoulder at the two women left behind. Pam met her stare head on, still grinning that damn smirk. Sookie reluctantly looked at Maria. She was still glaring and, without warning, hissed hatefully at the blonde.

Sookie jumped and quickly darted off after Eric. She couldn't be sure, but part of her thought she could hear Pam and Maria laughing at her as she ran off.

When she finally found Eric again, he was in his office sitting behind his desk waiting for her. He looked up at her casually, which instantly annoyed her.

"What can I do for you, Miss Stackhouse?"

"Give me back my house."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I bought it. It's mine."

"Why would you even want it?"

What he said sent a chill of excitement down her spine.

"Because I want you to let me claim you."

Sookie felt her insides tremble, fueled by an odd sense of desire she was surprised she felt.

"Why would I do that?" She asked, trying to remain cold and angry. "So you can drink my blood?"

Her mind flashed with images of his lips on her skin, of his teeth piercing it, and him sucking on her blood. Her body instantly flushed. She had to force herself to remain calm while her heart thundered.

"Yes," He told her simply. "Your blood makes you very desirable. Whether vampires know it or not, you smell incredible. It's the fairy in you that they want. You need protection, which I can give you."

"If?" She knew there had to be a catch.

"I get to feed off you." He said.

She clenched her jaw while her pulse continued to race. "And that's it? You just want my blood? Nothing else?"

"I don't need you for anything else."

Sookie flinched. She hadn't expected him to sound so casual and, honestly, a little mean when he answered her. It was cold, which she was shocked to realize hurt her feelings.

"No," She said. "It's my house."

"Not according to the paperwork."

She glared hatefully which he seemed to find amusing. Grinning again, Eric rose fluidly to his feet, stepped around his desk, and soon stood over her. He bent over, ensuring that his eyes were level with hers.

"You'll come around." He told her confidently.

Flustered and filled with more than simple anger, Sookie did her best to sound brave. "Don't count on it."

And with that, she spun on her heel and charged out of the club entirely. If Eric wouldn't give her the house back, she'd go to Bill. Surely he would be able to convince Eric.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN:** Hey guys! So, yeah. I wrote three chapters and... none of it saved. There was something wonky, apparently, and I lost chapters 25-28. I am pissed! I have to write it all again. Hopefully, I can get everything back down. Jesus, I'm annoyed, but what can you do? So, here's 25. I hope you guys like it, and let me know what you think Enjoy!

**Chapter 25**

_Night One:_

Bill had come by to see Sookie when he could. As soon as he could, really. She was surprised to see him, but glad, too. She liked that he was so worried about her, so scared about her wellbeing. It served him right as far as she was concerned. It might have been a year since they broke up to him, but it was less than twenty-four hours for her.

_Night Two:_

After storming out of Fangtasia when she found out that Eric owned her house, Sookie went for a drive. It was the only way she could think to clear her head, and it worked until she made her way back home. She was surprised to see Eric, topless and shoe-less, walking on the side of the road.

At first, she thought the memory-loss-thing was a ploy. It had to have been a joke, surely, but the longer she talked to him, the less certain she became. When he attacked Pam, Sookie was all but certain something was seriously wrong.

Damn witches.

_Night Three:_

Sookie got little to no sleep that day. She spent so long trying to pawn Eric off on someone (anyone!) but she had no takers. Then again, maybe she wasn't totally shocked by that. No one really wanted someone like Eric Northman in their house.

When she made it home that night just before he woke up, talked to him, and saw how lost he looked, Sookie decided to keep him anyway. A thought, a bit devilish and possibly mean, entered her mind. This Eric, this lost, sad, childlike Eric, was nice. She liked him better than the previous version. He was tender and a blank slate. That was the most important bit. He was empty.

Sookie had always thought Eric was an attractive vampire. He was tall, muscled, intelligent, ancient, powerful, and rich. He was everything she could want in a partner, but up until that point, his personality got in the way. With him like this, however, she could make him hers. It wouldn't take much.

* * *

_Night One:_

Eric looked thoroughly annoyed when "King" Bill called him. It wasn't the first time the monarch used Eric to run some useless errand since taking the crown, and Maria doubted it would be the last. But, he had no choice. He had to be the loyal subject despite the fact that he didn't want to be.

Maria worked the rest of the night alongside Pam while Eric was gone as she had every other time. It wasn't out of the ordinary at all, though there was something a bit strange. For some reason, in the middle of the night, Pam fled Fangtasia, a blur of red and blonde, and when she returned, she was furiously anxious. Maria had watched her return, eying the odd behavior, which Pam noticed as she stormed towards the offices again.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" She snapped angrily.

Maria said nothing, but arched a brow at the temperamental vampire. Shaking her head, she went back to work until her shift ended. When it did, she went home.

The fact that she hadn't heard from Eric in the meantime wasn't surprising, nor was the fact that she went to bed alone that morning. It wasn't as though he spent _every_ night with her.

_Night Two:_

Maria checked her phone when she woke up that night, and there was no message from Eric. It was a little strange, but not enough to raise her suspicions. Again, he had his own life, his own things to do that didn't include her, so like she knew she had to, Maria went to work.

The familiarity of her job, of slinging drinks for the people willing to pay for them accompanied for the first few hours of the night until something else odd happened. Pam, wrapped in a denim jumper that accentuated every curve she possessed, stalked out of the back. The moment she saw Maria, her path diverted.

"Go home." She said plainly.

"What?"

"Go home." She repeated. "Take the night off, okay?"

"But-"

Pam crossed the space in seconds and soon loomed over Maria to the point she had to lean back or risk her forehead meeting the blonde's chin. Her fangs were out as she hissed down at the dark-haired young woman.

"I said, go home." She said angrily. "Now."

Maria glared up at her, but decided against the fight that would ensue if she ignored her command. It wouldn't be worth it.

"Fine,"

Maria tossed down the rag in her hand and walked out of the nightclub. If Pam didn't want her there, it was fine by her, but she could tell something was wrong. Pam was acting strangely, stranger than normal at least.

Protestors shouted their chants, the same tired rant that they'd chosen weeks ago. They targeted her the moment they saw her, which they did to everyone who left the club, but she ignored them. Maria instead reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone. She called Eric's number.

It rang and rang until she finally heard the sound of Eric's voicemail. She didn't leave a message before hanging up and stowing the phone in her pocket once more. Pam was acting off, anxious, which wasn't the blonde's norm. It bothered Maria.

Pushing the feeling down, she text Eric, asked him if there was something she needed to be worried about, and then proceeded to go home. The last time things felt this strange, Russell Edgington was an issue.

_Night Three:_

Maria went the rest of that night, the day, and half of Night Three without a word from Eric. She was beginning to worry. She'd called him twice more. The first time it rang until it reached the voicemail once again. The second time there was no ringing. It went straight to voicemail, something it never did.

The longer she went without knowing what was happening, the more her imagination began to take over, and there was no limit to the horrible things she could imagine. Drawing on personal experiences, perhaps.

Eventually, unwilling to remain in the dark, Maria returned to Fangtasia where she knew Pam was likely hiding. To her surprise, Fangtasia was closed. Protestors remained, for some reason, but the door was locked when Maria finally made her way through them. Having a key, it was no obstacle and she was inside soon enough.

The stench of rot and decay was strong, nearly enough to knock her off her feet. It made her scowl and grimace. Bile threatened to rise in her throat, but she managed to push it down in favor of looking for Pam.

She was nowhere to be seen, so Maria called her. Pam didn't answer her phone, and Maria knew her calls were going through because the amount of rings before her voicemail would change. That meant she was glancing down, saw it was Maria calling, and ended it instead of picking up the line.

Maria was growing more and more anxious, and angrier by the hour. Something was going on, but she was being left in the dark. Given everything they'd been through together (all three of them) over the last year and a half, Maria knew she didn't deserve to be ignored. They should trust her at this point, whether the problem was vampire business or not. She'd proven herself on multiple occasions, proven that she was on their side, so to be left out frightened her.

She took a seat at Eric's desk and waited. At some point, Pam would have to return to Fangtasia, and then Maria would confront her. No more ignoring phone calls. No more sending her home. If Pam refused to answer her, Maria would rip the thoughts out of the blonde's head by force.

_Night Four:_

The front door smashing into the wall brought Maria to the moment. She stood from Eric's chair and slowly began to tug off her glove. Pam's heels clicked against the tiled floor. They brought her through the hall and closer to the office. The moment she stepped through the threshold, Maria was hit again with a strong odor of rot. The bile returned, stronger than before, yet somehow she managed to swallow it. The fact that Pam was wearing something a nineteenth century mourner would wear barely registered with her beyond that stench.

"The fuck do you want?" Pam snapped after she shook off the surprise of seeing Maria.

"Where's Eric?"

Pam sighed loudly from behind her veil. "Get the fuck outta here. Now."

"Where is he, Pam?" Maria wasn't willing to back down this time. She'd spent the last four days not knowing what was going on, and that was more than enough.

"Look," Her voice was cold, but as smooth as ever when she spoke. "Just because the two of you spent some _magical nights_ together doesn't mean you get to start making demands, kitty. You're not the first random girl Eric's stuck his dick in, and ya won't be the last. Now, go away."

Maria was shocked, but more by the way Pam spoke than her actual insults. Insults were simply part of the game when it came to the Victorian Madame.

It was the last straw for her. She was done being shoved aside, so she reacted. Maria launched herself at Pam, smacked the veil out of the vampire's face and touched her rotting skin before she knew what had happened. It only took an instant for Maria to glean someone else's life, so the fact that Pam shoved her away quickly didn't matter.

Pam smashed her hand into Maria's chest which sent her flying across the room. Her back hit the wall hard, but she managed to get her feet under her before she would have hit the floor.

"What the fuck?!" Pam shouted angrily.

"God damn it, Pam! His memories are gone?!"

Pam suddenly went still halfway through shoving her veil back into place. "What'd you just say?"

"Christ. Why didn't you tell me?" Maria was furious as she tugged her gloves back on. "Blondes being fucking retarded is supposed to be a stereotype."

With nothing left to say to her, Maria left Fangtasia with every intention of racing to Sookie's house.

An amazing wave of clarity was brought with touching Pam. She understood why the blonde was so worried about what happened to Eric that she tried to keep his situation a secret, but that didn't meant Maria wasn't furious. Pam should have known better. She should have known that Maria could have helped, if anything help keep Eric safe even if Pam was completely unaware of what Maria could do.

Miles flew beneath her feet. Maria ran and ran and ran to Sookie's house, guided by the directions she'd taken from Pam as well as everything else. Sure, she didn't want to know the blonde that well, but desperate times and all that.

Maria turned onto a dirt road that brought her ever closer to the Stackhouse estate. In the distance, she could see the freshly-painted yellow farmhouse and ran even faster. Within seconds, she was skidding to a halt in front of it.

Eric spun with his teeth bared, hissing at Maria, but she already saw it. She already saw him passionately kissing Sookie on the front steps and it made her scowl.

Her eyes landed on the Viking standing in what could only be described as workout clothes. His angry expression faltered almost immediately. He stared at her strangely, but Maria was relieved. She was so grateful that he was alright that her eyes actually prickled and welled with possible tears.

"Eric," She breathed his name. She couldn't help it.

He looked at her strangely and, hesitantly, he began to advance. Maria did the same. She wanted to hug him, but when she looked into his eyes and saw nothing reflected back, she refrained.

They met one another in the middle of the yard and stood perhaps four or five feet from one another.

"Are you alright?" She felt compelled to ask.

"Yes," He nodded slowly. "Do you know me?"

Maria felt her insides jerk. It was true. He was entirely empty.

"Yeah," She nodded as the sinking feeling grew. When she blinked, Maria felt tears trickle down her cheek. "I do."

Eric took a single step closer and reached out. With the back of a curled finger, he wiped away one of the trails of tears on her cheeks.

"You're sad." He said as he swept away the second trail. "Is it my fault?"

The sweet, innocent way he asked the question, the clear worry in his voice, made her heart sink further.

"No," She forced a weak smile. "No, it's not your fault."

He nodded slightly.

The sound of footsteps drew their attention. Sookie was approaching, slowly making her way closer to the pair. Maria's face instantly hardened and a low, threatening growl echoed in her throat, a sound Eric must have noticed because he looked at her strangely.

Sookie reached for Eric's arm and held it tightly to her body.

"You don't like Miss Stackhouse, do you?" He asked Maria with genuine curiosity.

"No," She answered tightly. Her expression didn't relax until she looked up at Eric again. "I don't."

Eric shifted a little. "She is my friend. She saved me."

Maria fought the urge to reach out and grab Sookie, to throw her across the yard because she could see how certain Eric was in his declaration.

When she opened her mouth to speak, to ask Eric what he could remember or if he knew what happened, they were surrounded. Men in tactical gear descended on them in an instant and they were immediately guided to Bill's property across the graveyard. Everything happened so quickly that Maria could do nothing else but go along for the ride.

* * *

Sookie and Bill shouted at one another like a pair of moronic teenagers who'd just broken up. Their voices made Maria cringe, from Bill's thick drawl to Sookie's shrill tone. Maria, leaning against the wall of the foyer in the background, rolled her shoulders and her neck from side to side to try and alleviate the tension it caused.

Maria had to physically keep herself from getting involved, but it was difficult. The entire ordeal was giving her a headache, one that only got worse the longer Sookie spoke. _Don't' you dare speak to me like that _and _the second I move on, you arrest him_ were to phrases that nearly sent Maria through her skin. She was berating Bill for talking to her the same way she spoke to him, but the piece de resistance was soon to come.

"If you ever really loved me," She said with a tremble in her voice, "Then you won't hurt him."

_Are you fucking kidding me?_ Maria thought to herself.

No one said that. No one in real life ever said that. _If you ever loved me_ was something simpering little girls said in movies. It was one of the most manipulative things to say to anyone and maybe Maria should've have been shocked to hear it from the blonde, but she was a little.

"It's business." He told her. "_Vampire_ business. So, for once in your life, stay out of it."

Sookie flinched. Her eyes were welling with tears and she looked genuinely hurt by his cold words. How the hell could she be surprised by his reaction?! She just yelled, insulted, and was all around confrontational ever since setting foot in the mansion, and yet, she was shocked that he was unwelcoming? What a stupid cow.

Bill gave his attention to his guards and told them to escort Sookie from the property. She was furious and fought against them, but he was sure to tell them that she was forbidden from setting foot on the property.

Sookie fought against the men in black, but they were bigger, stronger, and easily shoved her out of the house. Maria and Bill were on their own when the door was closed. He seemed to have forgotten about her until he surveyed the scene.

"Leave," He told her sternly.

"I want to speak to Eric."

He clearly wasn't willing to put up with her, likely high on his status, and charged for her exuding authority.

"You will leave this property or I will-"

Maria's arm shot out. She grabbed him around the throat, spun, and slammed him against the wall she'd previously leaned again. Maria squeezed his throat hard, harder than she ever had before. Back in Dallas, the last time she'd held him by the neck, she'd held back out of some strange act of respect. No more.

Maria's lips curled back over her teeth and a growl crackled in the back of her throat. She could see him struggling to think of a plan. He was likely trying to decide if his guards, who she knew were human, could reach him in time, or if they'd be able to subdue her. They wouldn't and after a moment or two, he seemed to realize the same.

"I want to speak to Eric." She said again.

"Why?" He managed to choke out.

She formed an excuse quickly. "Because he and I have a bargain and if you plan to keep him, he needs to release me from it."

Maria loosened her grip just enough he could speak. "If Mr. Northman meets the True Death, the surely, your bargain is finished."

Her stomach sank and a pit formed in her chest, a pit that was slowly filling with fear and rage.

"That's not how I work."

Again, Bill seemed to think about what to do. As an act of 'respect', Maria released him and took a few steps back. Bill, glaring hatefully back at her, jerked his suit sharply into place. She remained silent and waited.

"Five minutes." He said finally. "I will give you five minutes."

Maria nodded. Bill gave her a wide berth as he approached the door that Eric had been ushered down. He pressed a few buttons, Maria heard the second door open, and before she made her way into the basement, Bill was sure to reiterate that she had only five minutes. She didn't reply, but rolled her eyes.

As she made her way downstairs and to the cells, she could hear Pam and Eric arguing. It was easy given the walls were concrete. Sound traveled.

"We can get your life back." She said desperately.

"I don't want it!" He yelled back. Maria heard Pam gasp. When he spoke again, he sounded a bit broken and sad. "The vampire I was… I don't want to remember."

"You don't know what you're saying." She was pleading, and her voice shook as she spoke. Maria pitied her.

He didn't speak again. As Maria rounded the corner that brought them into view, she saw Eric taking his seat on a cot while Pam lingered in the background. He must have heard her or sensed they weren't alone anymore because he looked up.

"Maria," He said, acknowledging her. It felt wrong, though. There was no recognition to her name. Instead, he might as well have been reciting a word from the dictionary. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to help you." She said, ignoring the itch that was forming at the back of her throat.

"No," He shook his head. "King Bill thinks that we are a danger. We need to be in here."

Maria scowled. She didn't like the way he spoke, the way he referred to Bill. It was simply more proof that Eric wasn't in there anymore. He sounded so meek…

As calmly as she could, she continued. The last thing she needed to do was lace her words with the same anxiety Pam had. It clearly wasn't helping.

"Eric," She said, drawing his eye. "Let me show you the past. I can do that, show you some of what you lost."

"What?" Pam's voice was soft, distant, though that might have been because there was a buzzing in Maria's ears.

"No," Eric shook his head firmly and turned his eye back on the floor. "No, I don't want to know who I used to be."

"That's not fair." Her jaw was tight when she spoke again because her frustration was growing. "What about what Eric wants, hm?"

He looked up at her with confusion. "Isn't that who I am?"

"The other Eric, the Eric that this happened to. What about what he wants?" Maria grabbed the bars and squared herself on his as best she could, ensuring they had eye contact. "That man you're showing nothing but respect, Compton, he wants to kill you. He wants you to meet the True Death because he's jealous."

"He is my King!" Eric snapped.

"He's a fucking bureaucrat!" She shot back just as angrily. "He wasn't born to his title like you and I were. It was handed to him. He has done _nothing_ to earn your respect, but you're still willing to roll over. You're willing to kill Eric Northman and you don't even know who he is, how important he is to the people around him." Maria clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling. Angry tears had gathered in her eyes again because she couldn't believe how hard it was to convince him.

"Miss Stackhouse has told me what I did. She told me that I was an evil person. I don't want to remember that."

Pam growled hatefully, grumbling a dozen insults about the fairy witch under her breath that Maria wholeheartedly agreed with.

"Miss Stackhouse," She spat the name, "Doesn't know a fucking thing. I have seen _every_thing that's ever happened to you, all one-thousand years of it. I know you better than anyone walking this earth."

Maria knew Pam wouldn't like her saying that particular bit, but it was true. As she looked at him, Maria could tell she was losing Eric. He was slipping back, finding footing within his refusal to know the truth.

"Look," She said, drawing his reluctant eye again. "It won't be the same as remembering. I can't undo the spell. It'll be more like a movie, but…"

Her voice fell off and her head dipped. The bars were cold against her forehead, but it was a sort of relief. Her head was beginning to ache, she was emotionally stretched thin, run ragged, and afraid. As sad as it was to say, Eric was the only friend Maria had. He was the only person she had a connection with now. They'd been through so much and she didn't want to lose that. She didn't want him to die.

She felt drawn and exhausted. What was the old fable of the man who'd been cursed by the Gods to push a boulder up a hill for eternity, never allowed to reach the top? That's how she felt trying to explain to Eric that he should accept her offer.

"You're so selfish," She said with a sigh. Maria forced herself to look up at him. Eric stared back sadly, but with confusion as well. "I can't believe you're going to kill a man when you don't even know who he was."

There was nothing else to say, at least nothing else she could think to add. It was all out there in the open now, all she could offer.

Eric let his head dip like before. He returned to staring at the floor, probably thinking about what she'd said. The longer he went without giving an answer, however, the more worried she became. In the back of her mind, Maria could hear Bill's voice telling her that she had a time limit, a time limit that they were closing in on quickly.

When he finally showed a sign of life, he stood, gliding easily to his feet. He approached her, still oozing uncertainty.

"What do I have to do?"

Maria's heart leapt. At least, if he did die, he'd have some inkling as to who she was. There was a small bit of comfort in that, as much as there could be given the situation.

"Just give me your hand." She said as she began to tug her glove off. Eric offered his hand. "It'll be a little confusing at first, but you'll be able to sift through it eventually."

He nodded. Maria wrapped her hand around his and held it. He took in a short gasp of breath.

"You're really warm."

She smiled softly. "Close your eyes." He did as she asked, and Maria did the same.

She concentrated, called on everything within her, and poured it into her contact with Eric. She let loose every memory, every emotion –literally everything inside her. It flowed out of her and into the Viking. Within seconds, it was finished, and she let him go.

Eric, with eyes wide and breathing heavily through his nose, he stumbled back from her. He fell back onto the cot he'd been sitting on previously and looked out of sorts. She understood. It must have been intense to go from nothing to over a hundred years of memories in seconds. She hoped it helped, though.

Maria hoped he'd be able to see some of his own memories, but the chances were a bit thin. It was more likely he'd see hers instead, probably not even getting any of Pam's. The fact of the matter was, anything she'd taken from someone else was little more than white noise if she shared her memories, like a photo-copy of a photo-copy from one of those mid-90s copy machines.

He remained still, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clamped together. He looked lost, which she understood. But, before Maria could ask if he needed help, if he had questions about anything, footsteps drew near. She instantly let out an annoyed sigh. Sure enough, Bill revealed himself.

"Time's up." He told her.

Maria's gaze drifted back to the cell. Pam and Eric were both looking at her. Jesus, Pam looked horrible.

"Thank you, Miss Romanov." Eric told her kindly.

She forced a smile and gave him a nod. When she looked at Pam, the blonde returned the action. Silently, Maria left the basement, followed closely by Bill.

When she reached the front door, Maria opened it with every intention of leaving, but Bill spoke up first.

"Maria Romanov," He said. Holding the door open, she turned to look at him. He had a skeptical, sarcastic grin on his bird-thin lips. "_The _Maria Romanov." She nodded. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Yup," She said.

Maria left, slamming the door behind her.

Without the need to be anywhere soon, Maria walked across the cemetery back toward the Stackhouse property. She knew how to get home from there.

Ten minutes or so after leaving Compton's mansion, she was outside the yellow farmhouse. Maria was in her own world, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts when she heard her name called. An instant chill raced down her spine and, reluctantly, she looked up. Sookie had apparently been sitting outside on the porch and called out the moment she noticed Maria.

The dark-haired young woman stood there, for some reason, while Sookie jogged forward.

"What?" she snapped meanly.

Sookie paused. She stared back at Maria in surprise.

"What's going on?" She asked, ignoring Maria's angry word. "Where's Eric?"

"What do you care?"

"Hey!" Sookie snapped. Maria arched a brow at her. "I want to know what's happenin', so you're gonna tell me."

Maria scoffed, a cruel sound that held no mirth whatsoever. She walked toward the little girl and while Sookie tried to act calm and brave, Maria could hear her heart racing with fear.

"You don't get to demand shit from me, Fairy." She said angrily. "Christ, you make it sound like you're in love with him or something."

Sookie flinched. It was subtle, but Maria noticed it immediately. When she did, Sookie crossed her arms over her chest in that way that –presumably- the blond thought made her look powerful.

"Jesus, you do, don't you?" Maria instantly let out a mean-spirited laugh. "You really do jump from man to man on a whim, don't you?"

"Shut up!" Sookie said angrily. "Bill and I are over, and Eric loves me, too. It's not my fault that he isn't interested in some animal."

Rage flashed in her eyes, temporarily blinding her. Maria reacted instinctually. She instantly grabbed Sookie and threw her to the ground. The fairy screamed. Maria was on her in an instant.

"Yes, I am an animal." She growled in an inhuman way. "A v_ery_ dangerous animal and you are nothing. You're a burden on everyone. You know what it was like while you were gone? Bliss. For a year, everything was great, and the second you come back, everything goes to shit. You are a plague and _everyone_ was better off without you. And I promise you, one of these days," Maria closed the distance between them until her lips were inches from Sookie's ears. The blonde trembled beneath her and was so afraid that Maria could taste it. "I will kill you."

The soft whimper that left Sookie's lips followed Maria as she raced off toward Shreveport.

She was shaking, so angry that the lion inside her was scratching, clawing, to get out. Eric was in love with Sookie? It'd been three days. How could they be in love with someone in three days? That wasn't how it worked. Love, r_eal_ love, didn't happen that fast.

When she made it home, Maria didn't stop. She began to peel off her clothing, yanked off her jewelry and every adornment she could because the lion wanted out. She barely managed before it won the fight. The lion tore through her skin, bursting into the world.

Maria, now fully transformed, threw her head back and let out a loud, ear-splitting roar that echoed through the air. Some poor bastard somewhere would probably mistake it for a Bigfoot or some other type of cryptid. Perhaps they weren't wrong.

Still racing with energy, Maria tore off into the distance. Her claws ripped into the dirt and her massive paws flung it into the air as she ran. The wind ruffled her fur and whiskers. Maria darted into the woods with every intention of running until she couldn't anymore.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN:** Hey guys! I'm SO happy that everyone's liking the story so far. The next few chapters are going to take a little longer to come out because I have to try and decide just how much I can actually involve my OC. Until I rewatched the show, I forgot a lot of what happened, so that's tricky. Oh! And I'm going to follow the show, but my story isn't going to end all 'happily ever after' like it did. At least, not for some characters. Mwahahaha! Lol. Anyway, let me know what you guys think and, as always, enjoy!

**Chapter 26**

Eric sat in the cell still trying to sift through everything Maria had shown him. It was a jumble of events, but the most recent were vivid, and confusing. Through her eyes, he could see a lot. She'd been right when she told him it was like a movie. The emotions might have been there, the images too, but he didn't feel connected to any of it. It was no different than someone telling a story and then, at the end, they add _and you were there, too._ That was how much a part of the events he felt.

Eric saw Maria, him and Pam together. That was the constant. The three of them were together every night, and nowhere, not once, did he see Sookie. Miss Stackhouse wasn't even a glimpse in the background. It was simply Maria and his Progeny.

Through Maria's eyes, Eric saw them at Fangtasia. He saw them lying together in bed, sharing a sweet moment or two multiple times, and glimpses of animalistic sex that wasn't shy on passion. Eric saw months and months of them together, of fear and more pain than a person should ever have to go through, and the safe relief she felt when he was near.

One memory that turned his stomach was of Maria, consumed in a genuine terror, holding a burned, bloodied husk of a creature that looked no different than Pam. Somehow, he knew it was him, and that she'd saved his life.

It was all so confusing and so fraught with emotion that Eric was dizzy, but he knew he needed to try and make sense of it. As he did, pouring over and over everything, people approached. Eric looked up and saw men in black flanking King Bill.

He knew what was coming.

* * *

An untold amount of time passed before Maria finally returned home. She didn't know how far she'd run until she didn't feel like slaughtering people, but it could have easily been to the other side of the county and back.

As she walked leisurely across her property and back to the front of her house where she'd left the pile of her clothes, movement on her front porch caught her eye. To her surprise, it was Eric. Maria paused. He heard her, too, and turned. With what could only be classified as wonder, he left her front porch and approached the massive beast.

His wide eyes danced over her. To him, this was the first time he'd seen what her other half looked like. It might have sounded conceited, but Maria rather liked the way her lion looked. She found it beautiful, really. It could have been because she felt more comfortable in its skin than her own. Whatever the reason, she felt her chest swell with a little bit of pride when he spoke.

"You're incredible." He said in a voice laced with awe.

Maria smiled to herself, but knew she had to change back. She could understand conversation just fine as she was, but clearly speaking back would be an issue.

Easily, Maria shifted and soon stood before him naked as a baby. Eric immediately looked away, further proof that he wasn't the man he usually was.

"He let you go." She said.

"Yes," Eric nodded but refused to look up until he picked up her shirt and offered it to her. Maria, to save him the apparent embarrassment he felt, put it on. It wasn't incredibly long, but long enough to keep her somewhat decent. He finally looked up at her. "The King said I could leave."

"Good," She nodded. An awkward moment passed between them before she spoke again. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to thank you."

She gave a small smile.

"It's still a little confusing."

"It might take some time to get through it all."

"Are we together?" He asked tentatively.

"Something like that."

"But I live here, with you."

"You stay here sometimes, yeah." She nodded.

"But," he took slow, measured steps towards her. "You love me."

Heat immediately flushed through her body and found focus in her cheeks. She felt like she was on fire.

_Fuck_, she hissed to herself. The emotional transfer. Strong feelings make their way through and that must have been mixed in there.

"I uh…" Maria had to force herself to say something, but she wasn't willing to say _that_ in particular. "I care about you, yes."

He nodded once more and mulled over the information. "Thank you." He told her again. Eric began to take a few steps away and, for a split second, she was afraid he might leave.

"Wait," She said. He paused and looked at her. "If you need anywhere to stay, you're welcome here, still."

Eric smiled sweetly again, that innocent little smile that her Eric couldn't manage without a hint of wickedness.

Like before, he attempted to leave, but yet again paused. He turned a questioning eye on her. "May I ask you something, Miss Romanov?"

"Of course." She nodded.

"What would happen if I get my memories back?"

Her brows furrowed slightly. "I don't understand."

"Would you still want to be around me, be friends with someone like that?"

"Yes," She told him, surprised he felt the need to ask. "Of course I would. That's the Eric I met. He's saved my life, more than once."

"What if I never remember? Would you still be my friend?"

The way he posed the question was so… meek. He sounded as though he was genuinely worried that she would, for whatever reason, would turn her back on him. It made her a little sad, honestly.

"I would." She nodded with a sympathetic smile. "And, if you ever needed me to, I could help you answer some questions."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Just, any questions you might have."

"Like where I was born?"

Maria smiled again and nodded. "Yeah, like that."

Eric smiled, too. He seemed relieved and, with a small wave, he disappeared into the distance. Maria watched him vanish and her smile faded. She didn't envy his circumstance, but hoped she'd instilled the point that he wasn't alone. If he wanted it, he had friends and help.

* * *

Sookie trudged through the woods searching for Jason with her shotgun in hand. He'd run off and she needed to find the idiot before something bad happened.

A sudden crunching twig caused her to stifle a gasp. She spun with her weapon aimed and was surprised, but so happy to see Eric was the one standing behind her.

"Oh, thank God." She lowered the weapon and charged for him. Sookie instantly wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Eric returned the affection. "Bill let you go?" She drew back.

"Yes," He said.

Sookie let out another sigh. She dropped the gun at their feet, wrapped her arms around Eric's neck, and pulled him into a deep kiss. Like before, Eric returned the affection, but something felt wrong. He wasn't as 'into it' as he had been before being arrested by Bill.

When Sookie drew back, she stared up at him curiously.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

Eric, tenderly taking her wrists in his hands, unfurled them. He looked down at her unsurely.

"I think Miss Romanov and I were together." He said.

Sookie felt an immediate chill of anger. Her face fell as she stared up at him.

"What?" She tried to keep the emotion from her voice, but she wasn't entirely sure she succeeded.

"She showed me some of the past, and I think she and I were together." He repeated. "There's still a lot to go through. It's very confusing."

Sookie didn't say anything at first. Instead, she did her best to absorb the information. Her first question was how the hell someone like Maria would be able to show Eric anything at all, but at the same time, she could un-glamor people. Maybe it wasn't completely out of question, but she didn't like it. It put a wrench in her plan.

"Okay," She finally mumbled. She wasn't entirely certain what else she was expected to say. "Well," Sookie threaded her fingers through his and held his hand. "Come on. Let's go home."

But Eric didn't move. He just stood there like a marble statue. After a moment, he pulled his hand out of hers.

"I think I need to take some time to think." He said. "I need to try and understand everything she showed me."

Sookie tensed her jaw. She was becoming frustrated, but pushed it down. She forced a smile that she hoped wasn't as uncomfortable to see as it was to form.

"Okay," She nodded. "I understand. Um, well, come home before sunrise, okay?"

He smiled as well and nodded. She watched him take a few steps before he stopped.

"What would happen if I get my memories back?" He asked her, seemingly out of nowhere. "Once I know who I am, what I've done, would you still want me then?"

She didn't answer at first. Two thoughts were coursing through her head at a million miles a minute. On the one hand, she wanted to be honest and tell him that no, of course she wouldn't want to be with him anymore. Eric Northman, that version of him at least, was a monster. On the other hand, she knew she could use the situation to her advantage.

As innocently as she could, she said, "I don't know." Her voice was delicate and soft. She noticed him flinch. "You've done a lot of terrible things to me," She stepped closer and tenderly placed her hands on his chest, "And the people I love. But," A slow smile curled her lips. "This you, this is so kind and sweet. I never would have let the old you in my bed."

She could see him thinking, taking in everything she'd said. Sookie knew that, if she played it right, she might be able to make him second-guess wanting to get his memories back. Maybe she could get him to stay the way he was.

"I hope I do, but I don't know. I just know that I want to keep feeling like this."

She smiled again and, like before, pulled him down into another kiss. Sookie made it as passionate and alluring as she could. When she finally drew back, she was sure to nibble slightly on his bottom lip as she did.

Eric looked at her. He reached up and tenderly glided his hand down her cheek. A moment after the tender touch, he backed away and vanished into the woods again.

Sookie's kind exterior immediately melted away. She stared into the shadows, filled with an anger that surprised her. Fucking Maria just _had_ to get involved. That damn cat couldn't leave well enough alone. Sookie had everything perfectly planned, and it was all going her way, until Maria put doubt in Eric's head.

Now, if she didn't play her cards right, Sookie might not get the Eric she wants. The real one might come back.

* * *

Eric felt the pull of the approaching dawn in his gut. He might not have the slightest hint as to who he was, but his instincts were still there. Every vampire just knew when the sun was close to dawn, an internal thing that told them they needed to go to ground.

He'd spent the night deep in thought. It was overwhelming, but he needed to do his best to go through it all. He had to be on his own for that, but now, with the sun nearing, he went home.

As he walked up the path to the house, every light was off save the front porch light. She was asleep, he was sure, so he was as quiet as he could be.

Eric made his way up the porch and through the unlocked door, grateful that he could walk right through the threshold. It was his house, after all. Apparently, he'd bought it some time ago.

His feet took his slowly upstairs. Eric did his best to avoid any creaking floorboards because he didn't want to wake her up. That would be rude.

When he reached the second floor, Eric found the bedroom door open as well. On the toes of his feet, he stepped inside. She was asleep in bed, lying across from him in a sea of pale bedding. She was practically buried under the thick, plush comforter. He made his way to her side where he simply stood, watching her sleep. Even Eric knew it was a bit creepy to stand over someone and watch them while they were asleep, but he couldn't help himself. She was beautiful.

When they 'first met', Eric had been struck by an odd sensation. She felt familiar, but not in a way that told him they knew one another. That was impossible, even after she introduced herself, but there was a level of comfort that surprised him, and he was grateful for.

As he stared down at her and the way she was curled against her pillow, Eric thought about how soft her skin was, noticed the slope of her jaw, her lips, and the way her delicate hand clutched at the blanket. In his mind, he saw those brightly-colored eyes sparkle as they looked up at him through thick lashes.

Eric began to disrobe. He removed his sweatshirt while he kicked off his tennis shoes. After he took off his socks, he grabbed the corner of the comforter and as tenderly as possible, he peeled it back. Still sure to keep from waking her up, he slid into bed. She must have felt it, though because, after he got comfortable on the mattress, she moved.

Eric didn't breathe as she rolled over to face him. He watched, waiting for her to wake, but it never happened. He allowed himself to relax completely when her eyes remained closed.

As he laid there staring at her, filled once again with that familiar comfort, Eric reached forward. Some of her hair had come free of the ponytail that held the rest of it back, so he twirled it around his fingers and guided it back behind her ear where it could rejoin the rest of her long, ebony-colored locks.

Maria remained still, so Eric scooted a bit closer. The heat from her body poured into him and helped lull him into sleep.

* * *

It was late in the day when Maria was ripped viciously from her sleep. The room was shaking. Violent wind wiped through the space, knocking over knickknacks, ruffling the curtains, and bringing with it a bevy of whispering voices.

A loud scream echoed from her side. It was Eric and, for some reason, he was heading for the curtains. The shock of seeing him in her room was quickly overshadowed by the fact that he, despite it being midday, tore open the curtains, bathing the room in light.

She was out of bed in an instant. The second she reached him, Maria dug her fingernails into his shoulders and yanked him back. Eric flew through the air and slammed into the far wall. Maria immediately shut the curtains and spun around to face him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She demanded.

"Get out of my way!" He yelled back.

Eric charged for the double doors once again. Maria, without hesitation, reared back and slammed her fist into the side of his face. She felt the bones in his jaw and cheek shatter under the force. She didn't hold back, smart enough to see that something had control over him. Given his run-in with the witches, she wasn't foolish enough to give him any leeway.

Eric fell to the floor hard enough that Maria heard the wood splinter, despite the torrent of wind that surrounded them.

"You'll burn, you fucking idiot!"

"I dun care." He said, his words slurred by his broken jaw.

Eric rose to his feet and attacked again. Maria knew she had to take things further and, before she could talk herself out of it, when he was close enough, she brought her heel down violently onto the side of Eric's knee. He screamed in agony and fell to the floor once more, but he didn't remain. Despite the bone jutting out of the side of his leg, he pushed himself to his feet once more. Maria repeated the action on his good knee. As before, he screamed in pain.

To her shock, he began to claw his way across the floor and toward the curtains. Maria knew nothing would stop him, so she acted accordingly. She grabbed her comforter and proceeded to wrap Eric up in it. The Viking fought viciously, but she had full use of all of her limbs and eventually won out.

When he was as secured as he could be, Maria grabbed the edges of the blanket and dragged him out of the room. As quickly as she could, she made her way downstairs, not the slightest bit worried about the fact that he was bouncing down each step as she did. When she made it to the main floor, she instantly reached the cellar door, kicked it open, and dragged him down into the dank, light-tight cave.

She didn't let him go until he was in the center of the room. Eric kicked the blanket off as best he could and fumbled to get to his feet.

"Let me out of here!" He yelled. His words were fully formed, hinting that his jaw had finally healed.

"I don't think so." She told him firmly.

As she knew he would, Eric charged her yet again. The fight that broke out between the two was feral, like two rabid animals hell-bent on killing one another.

It went on for minutes, the two as desperate for what they wanted as the other. Each drew blood. Each fought dirty.

Eric had somehow gotten on top of her. A hand was firmly wrapped around her throat, his fangs were out, and Maria could do nothing more than slash at his skin with her claws. He didn't even seem to notice until, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything went still.

The wind stopped, the voices followed suit, and Eric was motionless. His eyes went wide and the second he realized what he was doing, he let her go, stood, and stumbled back. Maria coughed as the blood poured back into her brain and she was given the ability to breathe again. Slowly, when she was sure her head wouldn't explode, she got to her feet as well.

Eric stood on the other side of the cellar with blood smeared across his skin, his arms slowly healing, and standing at an odd angle. His hip was still broken from when she'd kicked him only a moment earlier.

"I'm so sorry." He said in a desperate way. "I'm," He took a wonky step forward, but stopped himself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine." She said. Maria's voice was a bit hoarse, which she expected. "It's the witches."

Eric nodded, but didn't seem to be put at ease by her words.

"Come on. We should probably get cleaned up."

"No," He said quickly. "No, I think… I think I should stay down here. At least for now. I don't want to hurt you again."

Maria was slow to agree, but did. With a final glance to him, she ascended the steps onto the main floor. Maria closed the cellar door and eyed the small latch that locked it. It was one of those little, inconsequential locks that does practically nothing against a good bang, and yet, she locked it anyway.

* * *

Not long after the sun set, there was a small knock on the door that led to the cellar. Maria rose from her spot on the floor against the wall and approached. She touched the lock, but paused.

"Miss Romanov," She heard Eric mutter from the other side. "I think I'm okay, now."

She smiled to herself at the childlike way he spoke, and opened the door.

"Thank you." He said. Maria stepped aside and let him out, closing the door behind him. "Do you have any TruBlood?"

"No," Maria shook her head. "You don't drink it, so I don't keep it in the house."

His brows pulled together slightly. "Then what do I eat?"

"Well… me."

He seemed a little surprised which surprised her.

"Oh," He said. "Well…"

Eric moved sheepishly. It was clear he wanted to eat, and given the physical damage she'd done to him, it bore to reason he needed to, but he was a little embarrassed.

"Come here,"

Maria took on a motherly tone whether she meant to or not. That's simply how it came out, comforting and reassuring.

Eric stepped closer. Maria gathered her hair and moved it away from her neck. He was hesitant, but eventually Eric wrapped his arms around her, hugged her to his body, and bit down into her throat.

Maria gasped and clung to him, consumed with the feeling of him biting into her. She couldn't explain how it felt to have it happen again after everything that had transpired the last few days. She found she missed it, missed the way it felt to have his cold lips on her neck, the sharp twinge of ache when his fangs pierced her skin, and the feeling of his body against hers.

Eric fed for a moment, perhaps two, before he drew back. His lids were low, at half-mast and filled with something other than satiation. The emotional shift was evident to both of them, but she had the context behind it. He didn't. That didn't seem to stop him, however.

His grip around her waist tightened, bringing her against his chest harder than before. Eric stared down at her with what could only be described as hunger reflected back.

"You're delicious." He said in a thick voice. He took steps toward her, guiding her back until she hit the wall. He pressed his body to hers. "Why are you so delicious?"

"I'm not human." She replied.

"Those things you showed me, were they real?"

"Yes," She nodded.

"How?"

"If I touch people, I can see their whole lives, but I can do the same thing to them. If I concentrate, I can show them my life, too. That's what I did for you." Her brows came together. "I wanted you to remember."

"I don't understand what's happening around me." He whispered. "I…" he hesitated briefly and pulled away. He looked at her with guilt. "I have feelings for Sookie." Maria felt a stab in her chest. "But…" He paused again. He looked over her face before tenderly touching it, caressing her cheeks endearingly. "You make me feel safe."

"I do?"

He nodded. "You make me feel like I belong. I don't remember anything about myself, but I feel safe with you. Why?"

"I don't know." She said because she honestly had no idea why he would feel comfortable with her and no one else. If anything, she'd expect him to feel that way about Pam, not her.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN:** Hello everybody! Sorry it's been a week. I mean, I know I said it might be between updates, but the days just kind of ticked by. I've been trying to work out how to fit Maria in to the next couple of seasons given how vampire-centric they are, plus I'm building to a BIG crescendo that I think you guys are going to LOVE when it happens, but the journey there is, undoubtedly, going to aggravate the shit out of you. I mean, it would me if I didn't know the juicy end, lol. So, without further ado, here is another chapter. I hope you let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter 27**

Eric emerged from the shower feeling much better than before. He was covered in his and Maria's blood from their bought in the cellar. The guilt he felt over that still swam within him. Something came over him so powerful that he couldn't fight it. It drove him, as though it possessed every cell in his body. It compelled him to the sun, told him that –despite knowing that it would kill him- he _had_ to do it. If it weren't for Maria intervening, Eric knew he'd have died that day. She was protecting him, did everything possible to keep him out of the light, so he didn't blame her for breaking multiple bones. He did, however, feel bad for attempting to do the same to her.

As he dried himself off, Eric noticed the clothing Maria had given him to change into. It was nice –a pair of dark jeans, expensive boxers, and a dark, almost black-red shirt with a v-neck. They weren't her clothes, obviously made for a man, but he couldn't recognize them as his own. She said they were, that they were pieces he kept there for the nights he stayed, but they might as well have been on a mannequin in a store.

After he dressed, Eric went downstairs where he heard Maria in the kitchen. The smell of food curled his nose, but she clearly had to eat. She might not have been human, but she was alive.

He walked downstairs and through the floor plan with an ease he hadn't felt in a long time. Actually, ever, as far as he knew. It was that same sort of familiarity that had surrounded her since he saw her walk up to Sookie's house. It struck him immediately and the oddness of it caused him to approach her. Nothing about Maria at that moment clicked with him, not the way she looked, smelled, or the sound of her voice. She was as blank to him as Sookie had been when she drove up in her little yellow car, but comfort accompanied Maria. He couldn't explain it, only that it was there.

When he entered the kitchen, Eric saw Maria standing at the stove cooking something in a pot. She noticed him and glanced up with a small smile. He could see something in her eyes that he didn't see with Sookie. It was loss. Despite how she tried to hide it, Eric could see that she was almost mourning the vampire he used to be. The only other person to look at him like that was his Progeny.

"Thank you for the clothes." He said.

She asked with the same little smile, "Do you feel better?"

He nodded, gave a smile of his own, then decided to take a seat at her kitchen table.

"May I ask you something, Miss Romanov?" He asked as he slid onto the nearest chair.

"Always," She replied.

"Do you think I should try to get my memories back?"

It had been something he had thought about frequently since 'waking up' with nothing. Part of him was desperate for it, if anything to have a reference for the hatred launched his way. Another part didn't want to. So many people were terrified of him, told him that he was vicious, violent, and ruthless. He was conflicted and wanted any advice he could get.

She turned to face him, leaning against the countertop by the stove while, what he assumed was soup, continued to simmer.

"Why ask me?"

"Because I'm still not sure."

She paused for a moment, thought over his question, and then replied simply, "It's up to you." She said. "No one can tell you one way or the other. It is your decision in the end, but no matter what you decide, I know Pam will be there for you."

"And you?"

"Yeah. I will."

He felt better for that, though he wasn't entirely certain why. But shortly after, a thought crossed his mind. Almost immediately, Eric knew it would be a bad idea to bring up Miss Stackhouse, but from what he could tell, Maria had been nothing but honest and forthcoming. Perhaps she would remain that way.

"Do you think Miss Stackhouse would still wish to be my friend?"

While he'd asked the question relatively timidly, with little to no tone what-so-ever, he saw Maria's face harden immediately. Anger flashed in her eyes and almost the same instant it did, she turned her back on him, as though she were shielding him from it. Instead, she went back to stirring her soup.

"I can't speak for her." She replied in a clipped voice.

Eric's brows furrowed slightly. "You don't like her, do you?" He felt he already knew the answer.

"No," She bluntly said. "I don't."

"Why?"

Maria didn't immediately offer another answer. As before, she seemed to think over his question, to contemplate what she was going to say. Eventually, she did respond.

"It's an old feud, mostly, but I don't like her as a person, either."

"Why?" Eric knew he risked her anger turning on him if he continued to press, but he had to know, especially when it was clear her hatred ran deep.

Maria slowly stopped stirring. Again, she paused, but only briefly before she turned to face him.

"Honestly?" She asked. He nodded. "She's manipulative and self-righteous, and causes nothing but trouble as a result. I have seen her guilt people into helping her, and then throw them under the bus when the inevitable consequences of her interference happen." A sinking feeling had swept through Eric the longer Maria spoke. He practically refused to believe her, though he wasn't entirely certain why. He just couldn't believe that someone as sweet and caring as Sookie Stackhouse could be as cruel as Maria implied. "You asked me if I think she'd accept you if your memories returned?" Eric nodded apprehensively. "No, I don't. I think she's going to try and keep you like you are right now because it would serve her better."

A quick burst of anger rocketed through his body. It compelled him to shoot to his feet. Eric stared down at Maria sternly, warningly.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He said, surprising himself with the level of animosity that swam within him in that moment. "I feel that she loves me enough to wish me whole again."

She clenched her jaw. He saw the muscle flex while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Reluctantly, it felt, Maria's eyes drifted back to his and their gazes met. She was frustrated and he could tell a thousand things wanted to leave her mouth in that instant. Instead, she spoke measuredly, calmly.

"Clearly, you care about her, so, for your sake, I hope you're right." The way she spoke was almost a warning, which genuinely worried him. "But the witches need to be dealt with, regardless. They're targeting vampires, not just you and Pam. I doubt they'll stop."

Eric could tell any talk of Sookie had come to a sharp and abrupt end. Considering how upset it seemed to make Maria –something he hadn't truly intended- he chose to move along as well.

"No, I don't think they will, either." He replied.

They sat in silence for a moment. A thought came to him, and one he knew she wouldn't like. They had to visit the king.

* * *

Later that night, Eric and Maria ventured to Bon Temps to meet with the king. They were given passage through the guards and led to the foyer where they were promptly told to wait because the king was meeting with someone else. Not long after, the door to the office opened. Sookie and Bill emerged, both shocked to see the other.

"Oh, Eric," Sookie lunged forward and immediately wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. Bill told me about what the witches did."

Eric tenderly hugged her Sookie. It felt nice to have her hugging him again.

"Yes, I'm fine. Maria kept me inside."

He felt her stiffen in his arms, but draw back. He noticed her turn a hard eye to Maria.

"Thanks." She said to the brunette.

He noticed Maria didn't reply. She only stared at the blonde with cold, unsettling eyes.

"How did you manage keeping him indoors?" King Bill asked her. "The pull, for Jessica and I at least, was almost inescapable. Jessica actually managed to nearly meet the sun."

"I broke his legs and locked him in the cellar." Maria's voice was dead and flat.

"Oh my God," Sookie mumbled. She clutched at Eric's hand and held it tightly in her own. "Well, I'm glad you're okay."

When she smiled up at him, he smiled back.

"So," King Bill chimed. "What are the two of you doing here?"

Eric proceeded to tell his king that he and Maria were there to offer aid in the fight against the witches. He was surprised to hear that Sookie had done the same.

Eric held her hand, their fingers entwined. His eyes darted around the room, however, unable to land on a single subject for more than a second or two. He'd look to King Bill, to Sookie, and to Maria. Maria was the only one not to look back at him. Instead, her attention remained focused solely on the king she despised. Every time he glanced down at Sookie, she'd smile back at him and tighten her grip on his just slightly.

His mind was clouded with conflicting thoughts. They were battling in his brain, telling him too many things for him to focus on just one. Part of him wanted to reach out and hold Maria's hand as well, but he didn't. Even as lost as he was with his current life, he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to hold both of them and since Sookie was the one who offered, he accepted.

The feelings coursing through him only helped to confuse him further. He was drawn to Miss Stackhouse, pulled to her by some unseen force. She'd found him, taken care of him. She was tender and kind and feelings developed as a result. He couldn't say for sure because he had nothing to compare it to, but he was fairly certain part of him loved Sookie. How could it not? After all he'd been through, after being lost and confused, it made some sense that he would latch onto the first person to show him kindness.

But then there was Maria. If what she'd shown him was to be believed, they had some sort of relationship before his memory was taken from him. They shared things, moments of kindness and passion. He felt inexplicably comfortable with her, as though some small part of him belonged. He hadn't even felt that with Sookie for the first day or so he'd been with her. The sensation was immediate with Maria.

The two young women were infinitely different, from the way they looked, to the way they smelled, to how they treated him. Miss Stackhouse had been afraid of him at first, but slowly accepted him. She still treated him like a doll, however, which he thought was odd. Miss Romanov was much more upfront. She could and did answer questions seemingly honestly. She never shied away from him, treated him like a monster or like he'd break. He might not have had a reference, but it felt as though she treated him as she would have before the witches stole his memories.

As he stood in the foyer holding Sookie's hand, Eric remained conflicted and a bit saddened that Maria would barely acknowledge him once the blonde took his hand. He could sense her agitation with the situation, her anger and the animosity she felt toward Sookie.

He did wonder at one point why, if he and Maria had been in a relationship prior to the witches' curse, she refused to say anything about it. In her memories, he felt that she loved him (or at least something very close) but she didn't take it any further. She stood back and allowed whatever would happen to happen. She was passive, and he didn't understand it. Surely, if she felt as strongly for him as she did, then she would say something. Would she not try to keep Sookie back, to impress upon him and everyone else that they were together? Then again, perhaps she simply wanted to give him the freedom to decide for himself. He couldn't say either way, but if it was the latter, he respected her for that, thanked her for it, and was extremely grateful. It gave him a chance to try and settle his own thoughts.

They continued to speak, to form plans, and strategies. Eric marveled at how passionately Maria talked about the coming fight. It stirred something inside him. Deep down, deep in that place he couldn't quite reach, Eric knew he was a warrior. He knew that fighting was in his blood, and when Maria spoke about fighting the witches, he could sense she was the same.

Arrangements were made shortly after the real conversation began. It was agreed that, along with a few others, Pam would be included. Maria made the argument that she deserved to be present given she too had been targeted by the witch.

Roughly ten minutes after Maria called her, Pam arrived at the manor, more than willing to rip some witches' throats out. Her bloodlust was contagious.

* * *

Plans had been put into action, soldiers organized and vampires called for the coming fight. Most said they would arrive within the next ten minutes. Bill had called Antonia and asked her to meet them somewhere, a graveyard, apparently. She'd agreed.

Maria hoped neither side was naïve enough to fully trust the other.

As she stood in the foyer pacing, her body charged with energy and the need to act, Pam approached her. The blonde towered over her in a pair of fashionable heels. With her arms crossed and her face set in a hard expression, she spoke in Swedish.

"_He still swoonin' over the waitress?"_

Maria clearly didn't have to bother asking who Pam was referring to. Ever since Sookie showed herself, Eric had been at her side. Currently, the pair was sitting in the den on the couch, still holding hands. Sookie clung to him so tightly that Maria wondered if she was afraid he'd run off.

"_He says they're in love."_ Maria replied, fighting the bile rising in her throat when she said the words.

Pam scoffed obnoxiously and rolled her eyes. "_Please,"_ she practically laughed the word. "_Only reason she's clingin' so hard to him right now is to make Bill jealous and because of what Eric can give her. You know what?"_ Maria gave her full attention to Pam. "_I heard she was in fairy land that whole time and only a couple minutes passed for her before she showed back up again."_

Maria's brows rose. _"So, wait… you're telling me that, as far as she's concerned, she broke up with Bill and then practically the next night she was in love with Eric?"_

"_Basically,"_ Pam nodded.

"_Jesus Christ,"_ Maria mumbled. She glanced over her shoulder at the two. Sookie still had her death-grip on Eric's hand, but he was vacant, staring off into the room. She'd seen that look on him more than once when he was thinking, so assumed that was all he was doing. "_I knew she was opportunistic, but to jump on him this fast when he's vulnerable… that's…"_

Maria didn't have the words to describe it, but Pam did. "_Low."_ She said.

The brunette only nodded.

Her mind raced as she came to terms with what Pam had said. That meant that within days Sookie had managed to trick Eric into falling in love with her. Worse yet, Maria was fairly certain it'd worked. At the very least, he felt deeply for the fairy, which turned Maria's stomach in ways she didn't know it could turn.

"Hey,"

Pam's voice brought Maria back out of her thoughts. She glanced up and noticed the blonde shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Was Eric with you last night?" She asked. Maria nodded. "Thanks for keepin' him safe. I-" Pam continued to shift uncomfortably on her feet. She put her hands on her hips and kept her gaze diverted. Maria grinned to herself. This was Pam's 'I'm trying to be sincere' pose. "I appreciate it." She finally got out.

"No problem." Maria replied. The smile must have touched her words because Pam shot her an angry glare. It only broadened Maria's smirk.

"Alright," Bill's voice drew all attention to him. "I think it is time that we do this."

There was a chorus of agreements before everyone fled the mansion like a plague about to descend on the witches.

* * *

It was chaos in the fog, gunshots and screams. The smell of blood fueled the animal within Maria. She gladly cut down anyone that she hadn't arrived to the meeting with.

As she darted through the tombstones and danced from one victim to the other, Maria stumbled across an interesting scene. Sookie.

The fairy was slumped at the base of an obelisk, clutching a bleeding wound on her stomach. She'd either been shot outright, or managed to catch a ricochet. Either way, she was bleeding out.

Sookie's eyes, heavy and barely open, drifted up to Maria as she slowly approached. Sookie was breathing heavily and her heart was racing in her chest.

"Maria," Sookie's voice was soft. "Please,"

Maria tilted her head to the side. She had two options. One, she could save Sookie. She could lift the young woman into her arms and spirit her away from the gunplay. She could probably find some vampire's blood, and save her life. Option two, she could do nothing. Sookie Stackhouse was a shallow, vapid young woman who manipulated the people around her. She thought everyone should drop everything to help her, acted without a thought to what the consequences would be, and then batted her eye lashes to get out of trouble. She did what she wanted when she wanted no matter who was hurt in the process, and then had the audacity to get angry when someone called her out on it. She was a terrible person wrapped up in a pretty package.

Maria squatted down in front of her, resting her forearms on her knees as she looked over the blonde. A cruel, cold, and vindictive smile curled Maria's lips, and then, she laughed. The sound was filled with genuine glee and amusement at the situation she found herself in. And it was instinctual.

She continued to muse over the situation as she bounced back to her feet. Before she disappeared into the fog, she twiddled her fingers in a mocking wave, and vanished.


	28. Chapter 28

**AN:** So, here we being the frustration, but I think it'll all be worth it. And, this is also where we're going to jump ahead, because I have NO idea how to put Maria into the next few seasons with the other characters without it being super forced. So, here's the newest edition. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

**Chapter 28**

_Season 4, Episode 10_

Eric sat on the couch in Bill's den beside Sookie. He had blood smeared across his shirt and some still staining his neck, though he'd wiped the majority of it from his face. She wouldn't look at him and it hurt more than he thought it would.

"I remember everything." He finally said after minutes of silence. "The past, you and me."

He looked at her, but she still stared at the carpet. Sookie's entire demeanor had changed the second she realized he was no longer a hollow shell. He saw it happen at the hotel, that moment where he changed in her eyes. They were filled with… disappointment. She was disappointed that he was back.

"That person, the other Eric," He continued to speak, "He's still here. Look at me," She was hesitant, but eventually met his gaze. "Can't you see him in my eyes? I'm still me, just more."

"Uh-huh," She mumbled in a noncommittal sort of what.

His stomach dropped.

Eric reached for her hand, which she allowed him to take. She didn't shy away, but she didn't embrace it like she had only twelve hours prior. Sookie had grown cold.

Almost immediately, Eric thought back to what Maria had told him that evening, standing next to her stove while she made herself something to eat. She knew this would happen. She knew Sookie would turn her back the moment his memories returned. At the time, Eric was furious. He swore that it wasn't true, because that wasn't how love worked. He'd been naïve, apparently, because Sookie's love seemed to have conditions.

Eric shook the thought away. He didn't want to believe it. Perhaps it was that stupid, idealistic part of him that'd recently been given free-reign who wouldn't shut up, but whatever the real reason, he all but refused to believe that Sookie would turn her back on him so quickly.

"He's still here, Sookie." He said. "Why can't you see him in my eyes?"

She drew her gaze up, meeting his. The blue shined brightly, innocently, but lacked the previous warmth he saw there.

"I do, but…" Her words fell off for a moment. "I love you, Eric, but the things you've done… they're terrible."

He clenched his jaw. He didn't understand. Those things he'd done, the things that were 'holding her back' now weren't an issue before. She brushed them aside when he was an empty shell, ignored them despite everyone attempting to remind her of the monster he was. So why did it matter now?

Was she really as manipulative as Maria said she was?

The front door opened, the sound of which diverted their attention from one another.

"Oh my God," Pam gasped as she approached the pair.

Eric rose fluidly to his feet and opened his arms. She slid into the hug quickly. Pam grasped at his shirt, fisted it within her hands as she clung to him. Over her shoulder, he saw Maria enter the mansion at a much slower, lazier pace. She closed the front door and met Eric's gaze. She said nothing and remained blank.

"Are you back? Is it you?" Pam asked desperately as she put some space between them.

"It's me." He told his Progeny.

"Why didn't you summon me?" She asked. He didn't reply. "How'd you get the witch to undo the spell?"

"I didn't. Sookie did."

He shifted enough to the side so that both Pam and Maria could see the small blonde sitting on the couch. Pam moved uncomfortably and offered a thanks that mirrored it, but that wasn't what held his attention. It was how Maria and Sookie eyed one another. There was rage there, an anger that was somehow different than the previous sorts. He narrowed his gaze curiously on Maria. She seemed to sense as much and looked up at him without expression.

Bill speaking to Nan in the other room soon pulled Eric away from the women surrounding him. In reality, he simply used it as an excuse to escape the electric hatred that sparked between Sookie and Maria.

"Fire killed her four hundred years ago, it will kill her again." Bill said sternly.

"You're fucking our whole agenda up the ass." Nan hissed before she pressed her phone to her ear.

"Wait, you're going to blow up Moon Goddess?" Sookie asked in a panicked tone. "You can't. What about the humans trapped in there?"

"Looks like they bet on the wrong horse." Eric replied coldly as he leaned against the wall. He didn't know where the tone had come from, but he didn't want to keep it at bay. She'd offended him a moment ago.

Sookie glowered at him before she gave her attention back to Bill. "What about Tara? If it weren't for her, I never would've gone to the hotel, Eric would still be a zombie, and you'd be dead."

"I cannot jeopardize the whole of my kind just for a handful of humans."

"Lovable, ain't he?" Eric said coolly.

Sookie tensed her jaw, but ignored his comment. "At least let me help."

"The last time you 'helped', you were shot and nearly died." He said. "Stay out of this, Sookie."

She mulled over his words for little more than a second before she stormed out of the manor. Eric highly doubted anyone thought she would actually let the matter lie.

"We'll all silver ourselves and go to ground." Bill told those who remained. His gaze drifted to Maria. "Miss Romanov, if you're willing to fight alongside us, any of the guest rooms are yours."

She tilted her chin down in the slightest of head nods. Bill left, presumably to do whatever it was the planned to do. In the background, they could hear Nan still angrily spouting vitriol and whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the phone with her, which brought a smile to Pam's lips. She always was a fan of rage.

Eric's gaze lazily drifted to Maria. She was stood in the den with her arms hanging at her side, her back to him. He noted the way her head rolled from side to side as she looked over the décor, but he doubted there was much of a reason. Somehow, he knew she was only in there to avoid him and the other vampires. Eric had no intention of letting it work.

He glided easily along the floor plan and soon joined the thrope within the adjacent room. She turned her head enough to the side that he could see her profile. Maria remained silent and still, waiting for whatever it was Eric would say. He chose to speak quickly.

"Thank you for taking care of me." He told her with a level of detachment that surprised him.

Maria spun casually on her heel to face him. Her expression remained as blank as it had been when she entered the mansion. No brow twitch, no smile, no scowl. She showed no sign of life beyond a gentle cadence of breathing and blinking periodically.

"Sure," She said, speaking for the first time since arriving.

He didn't proceed because he wasn't entirely certain how. Eric could broach a number of subjects with her, from her tending to him while he'd been incapacitated, to what she'd shown him through their contact. He wanted to acknowledge all of it, but for whatever reason, he didn't know where to start, and her unreadable attitude toward him didn't offer any footing.

Before he could open his mouth again, Bill called out to the vampires. He told them dawn was on the way and that they'd better go below to the cells so that they could be sufficiently restrained. Eric cast Maria one more glance before he did as the others.

As he descended the stairs into the basement of prison cells where he'd been only a few nights prior, he recalled the last week with a level of clarity he was glad to have. He finally had references, anchor-points from which he could draw the truth.

Just as he'd assumed when his mind was fractured, Maria hadn't treated him any differently than she did before Antonia cursed him. She was a bit tenderer in regards to the way she phrased things, but she told him the truth. She'd been genuine and upfront, answering his questions with ease. With his memories back now, he could see that. He knew she hadn't lied.

Sookie, on the other hand, was harder to explain to himself. When he thought back to their conversations, he could see that'd she'd been honest as well, but her answers weren't straight like Maria's. Instead, they slithered from side to side, curled and twisted. They were flourished: an answer, but with an extra bit added to it that tugged on an emotion needlessly.

The best example he could think of was when he asked both young women what they'd do if his memories returned, or remained gone. Maria was blunt. She told him that it was his choice, that if he wanted them back -fine. If he didn't, then she was sure to tell him that Pam and herself would be there to help answer any questions he had. But, she was sure to instill that it was his choice regardless of how she felt about it. In fact, he couldn't recall her saying _anything_ about her own feelings toward the matter.

Sookie, however, had again spoken in one of her twisting, curling answers. With her soft voice, and big innocent eyes, she told him that she hoped he'd never remember. She pressed her body to his, filled his nose with the delicate scent of her perfume and her blood, and begged without begging that he remain as he was. Sookie had added emotion to her answer, reminding the memory-less vampire that he'd hurt her and the people around her when he was himself. She peppered her response with just enough guilt that it made him never want to know who he was.

He didn't mind at the time, but with a clear head came obvious clarity. He saw it now, and Eric wasn't entirely certain he minded. True, he'd heard Pam and Maria speaking the night before about Sookie's apparent ability to leap from one man to the next with blinding speed, but he didn't want to believe it.

The trouble with his current train of thought was Eric Northman was well-aware he was being foolish. He knew how stupid it was, and yet, it didn't stop him. It was things like this he mocked others so openly about and why he'd always kept a tight rein on his own feelings because simply _knowing_ you're acting like an idiot didn't always help you stop.

And then there was another issue. Maria cared about him much deeper than her icy demeanor would imply. She'd been so desperate in that moment to show him who he was willing to sacrifice to the True Death that he was certain she shared more than she ever meant to. But he'd seen it. He'd _felt_ it, and Maria could never slip out of that truth.

* * *

The following night, Moon Goddess Emporium shined like a beacon in the distance. The van ride had been primarily silent except for the female with the slightly British lilt narrating their route. As they parked, Bill and Eric exited the vehicle. The former opened the rear allowing Pam, Jessica, and Maria to exit. When she did, Maria noticed Eric's gaze linger on her for a second longer than she felt it should.

They hadn't spoken to one another since his memories had returned, and part of her was grateful for it. While the childish romantic wanted to race for him with arms stretched wide, embrace him tightly and plant a kiss on his lips because he was back, the rational person in her mind wouldn't allow it. Not only were they not living in a movie or some kind of romance novel, but she was genuinely embarrassed.

Eric had chosen Sookie whether it was a conscious action or not. Small things he did told her so, from the way he held her hand, to the way he looked at her. Maria could see what he might not have been entirely aware of, and it hurt. It hurt because she lied when Eric asked if she was in love with him. She was, at least as much as she assumed she was capable, and now he knew it. Eric knew how she felt in the purest sense, and hadn't mentioned it once. As a result, embarrassment settled in.

With their weapons securely strapped to their bodies, Maria cradling a brand new Kalashnikov that she suspected Eric had a hand in, they readied themselves for the assault. Before they could manage, however, Jason Stackhouse raced out from the shadows. He went on to tell them that Sookie was inside and, furiously, their plans had to be changed.

"Yeah," Pam growled at the blonde jock. "Fuckin' Sookie. As usual, she's in the goddamn way."

"Hey!" Jason snapped. He approached Eric with clear intent. "Sookie picked you up off the side of the road, cold and scared. She took you to her house."

"Well, technically, it's my house."

"Fuck you." He hissed. "And you," He soon turned his attention on Bill. "How many times has she saved your life? Lettin' you use her like your own personal buffet. Are you both fuckin' nuts?"

Bill didn't reply at first, but seemed to come to a decision relatively quickly.

"We must abort." He declared to the small group.

"I agree." Eric added.

"Jesus Christ, gentlemen." Pam said with thick irritation. "Don't tell me you're about to risk our whole species for some gash in a sundress."

Jason stared at her in angry shock.

"I'm starting to think that 'gash' is too nice a word." Maria muttered just loudly enough the others could hear.

"Hey, fuck you!" He snapped, pointing a stern finger at her.

"No, fuck her." She shot back, pointing at the emporium. "She needs to stay dead."

"If you touch her," Jason approached her, exuding anger. He soon stood over her, staring down at Maria as threateningly as she assumed he was capable. She wasn't frightened.

"You'll what?" Maria stood up to him, meeting his stare without blinking.

His conviction began to waver when he heard the deep, inhuman crackle in the back of her throat. Slowly, Jason retreated as though he was worried she might attack.

"Well," He finally said, "It don't matter anyhow. Look," Jason reached into his pocket and retrieved a pocket knife. With a flourish, he threw it at the building. Yards away from the door, it hit an invisible barrier. "Goes 'round the whole dang place."

"Great," Pam grumbled.

"We need to regroup." Bill told the others. "Form a new plan."

"This is fucking ridiculous." Maria growled hatefully.

"I agree." Pam replied as she crossed her arms over her chest in frustration.

The two shared a glance and in it, Maria knew that she and Pam were on the same page. If it were up to them, Sookie would die. The barrier around the property was a problem, but the fact that both Eric and Bill were concerned over the half-fairy angered them both.

The vampires stepped aside and muttered to one another, forming some kind of plan as to how they should proceed when they were attacked by a pair of vampires that Bill evidently knew. The male of the two was killed quickly, and the female subdued beneath the heel of Eric's boot. Maria grinned crookedly to herself when Pam snatched the woman's necklace away, siting its value with a cheeky smile of her own.

"Antonia!" Bill bellowed, calling out to the witch inside. "Show your face, witch! Hiding behind magic like a coward does not become you."

The taunting worked and within a few short minutes, Antonia emerged from the shop. The vampire Bill now held beneath his shoe chanted her loyalty. It had zero effect on the moment. Bill was all too happy to throw her against the barrier. It was like a vampiric bug-zapper.

Antonia explained the simple design of it. If Maria didn't despise the witch so much, she might have been impressed by the fact that she'd somehow harnessed sunlight.

Antonia and Bill continued to speak to one another, but it was clear early on that neither was truly willing to submit to the other. The proof came when Antonia demanded that, in order for Sookie to be released, Bill and Eric would have to kill themselves. At first, Maria scoffed and laughed at the demand just as Pam had. It wasn't until the pair agreed that her face fell.

"You gotta be _fuckin'_ kidding me?!" Pam yelled angrily.

Maria stared at him wide-eyed. She expected such stupid, romantic bullshit from Compton, but not from Eric.

"I'll shoot you," Bill told Eric with a calm voice. "And then Pam will shoot me. Agreed?"

Eric, his expression primarily blank, nodded. He looked back over his shoulder at Sookie as he lowered himself to his knees. Maria had difficulty believing what she was seeing. It took her brain far too long to catch up, but when it did, she reacted.

Maria raced toward Eric, grabbed his collar, and yanked him back. She tossed him toward the building behind them. He landed easily on his feet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked her tersely.

"Trying to understand." She told him in the same tone. "Are you _really_ about to kill yourself over some fairy slag? _Seriously?_"

"This is my choice." He said, bowing up on her as he rose to full height.

"How are you even dumber now than before?" She hissed at him. "Pull your head out of your ass, you fucking child!"

He bowed up to her, rising to his full height so he could stare down at her as intimidatingly as possible. "Get out of my way." His voice was low and threatening, but it held no sway over her.

"Bullshit." Pam spat. "You're not going to die over some hillbilly Barbie."

The blonde raced for the back of the SUV they'd all arrived in, removed the rocket launcher, and took aim.

"Kill her!" Maria shouted.

"Pam, I forbid you!" Eric bellowed, but his words fell on deaf ears. She didn't hesitate to launch the projectile.

The rocket slammed into the barrier where it struggled against it until its timer gave way and it erupted in a ball of fire. The explosion sent everyone on the outside of the barrier flying. It reverberated through the small street, shaking windows and setting off a distant car alarm.

A loud, ungodly ring screamed in Maria's ears. It was enough to drown out every other sound and, if she had to guess, signified broken eardrums.

She was on her back and in so much pain that half of her body was numb. She felt how broken she was, felt bones that splintered, others that had turned to dust, and layers of skin and muscle that had been cooked.

Someone appeared above her, someone she couldn't quite see. She felt heat on her tongue and tasted copper. Within seconds, Maria's body began to mend itself. Her vision soon cleared and when the world came into focus, she saw that it was Eric feeding her. His gaze danced over her while he held his wrist in place as though taking in how well she was healing. When her strength returned, he withdrew and helped her to her feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a hand on her back to help steady her.

Maria looked up at him through her lashes. She reacted immediately. Eric's head snapped to the side after her fist made sharp contact with his jaw. His lips were split open and his jaw sat at an odd angle. They began to heal before he shifted to look at her again.

"Fucking idiot." She hissed at him.

She was so angry and disappointed. Why were men so fucking stupid when it came to women?

Eric looked down at her. His fangs suddenly sprang free and he roared in pain. Without warning, he, Pam, Jessica, and Bill all began a stilted walk toward to protection spell. They shouted in pain, struggled against whatever had control of them, but they couldn't escape it.

Jason did his best to keep them from touching what would definitely kill them, but he was weak in comparison. Maria, despite how enraged she was, sprang into action. She went through them, grabbing each and throwing them as far as she could from the barrier. Bill hit the ground hard and rolled, which she took a bit of pleasure it, but her interference barely helped. They were all on their feet again and charging toward the spell.

She and Jason did what they could to keep the struggling vampires alive and, thankfully, it seemed to work. A wave of magic washed over the area, taking away the compulsion in an instant.

The vampires lingered for a moment, pacing like feral animals locked in a cage. Pam, poor Pam, approached her Maker. Her voice quivered, devoid of the confidence it usually held. He spun on his heel, fangs still bared as he hissed down at her.

"Get out of my sight before I kill you." He said hatefully.

"Eric, enough!" Maria snapped.

He instantly turned his ire on her. "Stay out of this. It has _nothing_ to do with you."

"Look at yourself." She said, her face twisted with disgust. "So willing to lay down your life for some bitch who is just going to walk away the first second she finds something better."

He roared at her and charged. Eric reached out for her throat and held it tight enough her head was forced back, but he didn't compress his fingers. Instead, they formed a steel cage around her neck. She could breathe and speak freely. Eric only wanted to frighten her. Two years ago, it might have worked.

"The great Eric Northman, wrapped around the finger of a waitress. Pathetic."

Maria didn't know what filled her with such rage, but it was there. Maybe she was simply hurt that Eric thought so little of himself, or maybe-

"What's the matter, you majesty? Jealous?" His voice dripped with the same anger she felt, as well as a certain type of distain she was a little surprised to hear. But, it wasn't as surprising as what he'd said, or that it struck a very real chord somewhere inside her.

Maria clenched her jaw. She formed her fists to the point she felt the tips of her fingernails slice through her gloves and into her palms. In a moment, she knew she'd smell her own blood.

Eric leaned closer until his narrow nose nearly brushed hers. "That's it, isn't it?" He practically cooed the words, but they were coated in ice. "Kitty's jealous because she wants me all to herself."

He was toying with her, hitting at her weakest points. Pam had clearly struck the nerve that turned off Eric's already dwindling compassion. Hell, if he'd threatened to kill his own Progeny, Maria knew there was nothing he wouldn't say to her. So, she did what any sensible woman would. She fought back with words of her own.

Maria leaned just an iota closer, the best she could manage with his unmovable hold. "I should have killed the bitch last night when I had the chance."

The corner of Eric's stormy blue eyes twitched just a touch. If she hadn't been so close, she might not have seen it. His taunting smile gradually began to drop.

"I found her in the cemetery, bleeding from a bullet in the gut." Maria continued. His smile was entirely gone. "I could've saved her, but it was so beautiful watching that crimson soak into her shirt, hearing her heart beat slower and slower and slower. She stared up at me with those big eyes, all filled with terror, and you know what I did? I laughed. I laughed and I left her there to die, and if I ever get the chance, I _will_ kill her." His eyes slowly began to widen. She watched as those storm clouds of rage that were always on the horizon swarmed back to the foreground. She smiled wickedly. "I am going to slice through her pretty little face, and then I'm going to tear into her with _my_ teeth." Her lips curled back to reveal her dangerous canines. Unlike the vampires, her pointed teeth were always visible. "And I'm going to make sure no amount of vamp blood will e_ver_ bring her back."

Eric began to tremble. Maria couldn't say if he was aware of it or not, but he was. Two reasons were likely the cause. Either one, Eric was so furious he had no control over himself because of her threat, or two and the most likely, he knew she wasn't lying.

They stared unblinkingly at one another for what felt like an eternity before Eric finally spoke.

"Our deal is done." He told her stiffly. "I never want to see you again, do you hear me? Crawl back into whatever hole birthed you."

He launched her away from him, but as was her ability, Maria easily landed on her feet. She rose to full height and met his glare with ease.

"I rescind my invitation, Viking." She told him calmly. "And just so you know, when your little waitress leaves you, don't come crawling back to me, okay? Save us both the embarrassment. I don't want some fairy's sloppy seconds."

He was livid. Flames might have burst from his eyes to burn her where she stood if it was possible.

Suddenly, and without warning, a shimmer drew their dwindling attention. The barrier was down.

Eric and Bill were in The Moon Goddess Emporium in an instant and, a few minutes later, there were gunshots. Maria didn't bother following them or finding out what had happened. Instead, she turned her back on the whole ordeal.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" She heard Jessica ask.

"Away." She replied.

Without a glance back, Maria walked away from the street and everything behind her.


	29. Chapter 29

**AN:** A little short, but hope you like. Let me know, and enjoy!

**Chapter 29**

Maria went through her house and gathered Eric's things. There wasn't a lot at her place, but a couple articles of clothing. She felt she should return them.

To those on the outside, it would look like she was dealing with a breakup. Perhaps in some way it was. She didn't see it that way, however. Instead, she viewed it more as the ending it was. Clearly, whatever had happened in the couple of days Eric spent with Sookie affected him deeply enough that, even with his memories back, he wasn't the same man he'd been before. Fine.

It did bother her, despite her outwardly cold attitude, but that didn't matter either. Maria had come to a very sensible conclusion on her walk home. Fuck it. Fuck it all. This was why it was better not to have attachments. Why bother? They don't work out anyway when fay were involved. Fay never played fair.

With a bag of his clothes in hand, Maria returned to Fangtasia. She walked right past the crowd and into the office in the back where Pam sat behind Eric's desk. There was blood smeared across her face. She'd been crying.

"What're you doin' here?" She asked coldly.

"Bringing back his shit." She tossed the bag onto the leather couch.

"Awe, what's the matter?" Pam's voice dripped with derision. "You two have a fallin' out?"

Maria arched a brow at the blonde. "Really, Pam? You wanna go there?"

Pam glared, clenching her jaw in the process. "Fine. Sorry." She sounded the opposite of apologetic, but her tone soon changed. "Have… has he called you?"

"No," she replied emotionlessly. "He's probably buried in fairy snatch right now, why?"

Pam didn't immediately reply. Instead, she looked off to the side, seemingly slipping into her thoughts. A minute passed, nearly two before she met Maria's stare again. She looked over her briefly.

"You stickin' around?"

The question held more than the simple words. Pam was plainly asking if Maria planned to remain at Fangtasia, and not just for her shift. She was asking if Maria intended to wash her hands of Eric and their whole ordeal.

"No," She told her. Maria felt an odd, unexpected twinge in her chest when she did. She noticed Pam's brows tug together. "He canceled our deal." Pam's confusion deepened. "So, I'm leaving. I have no intentions of watching him self-destruct because he's blindly devoted to Sookie. I've already seen that shit happen with my mother and Grigori. It cost me everything once. I plan to learn from my mistakes."

Maria headed for the door and paused only briefly at the threshold. She felt compelled to turn. Pam's eyes were leveled on her.

"Bye,"

There was a heaviness to the word that both women felt. Pam, remaining silent, only gave Maria a subdued nod. With that, Maria left the club entirely.

Instead of feeling free, she felt odd. Wrong, even. She felt wrong, but that didn't stop her from leaving.

* * *

_Four Days Later_

Eric stood in the main belly of the club. The harness attached to his body itched and stung. He didn't like it or the situation he found himself in. Pam was crying. He could tell even without looking at her because he could hear it in her voice, and smell her blood.

"I have spent over a hundred years with you." She said to him. "How can you think I would ever betray you?" He didn't respond. "If you think so little of me, then release me."

A trill of shock rippled down his spine that forced him to turn and face Pam. She still had that sad look in her eyes, but there was a strong determination lingering there, too.

"Do it." She told him harshly.

Eric almost wanted to simply because of her prompting, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn't force them past the lump that had formed, no matter how weakly he tried. She seemed to sense the same and her shoulders slumped slightly, as though relieved.

When the moment passed, Eric chose to ask something else.

"What about Maria?"

"What about her?" Pam asked.

"Where is she?"

Pam's expression twisted with mild confusion. "She's gone." She replied.

Cold swept through Eric's body. "What?"

"She left."

"When?"

"After the Moon Goddess."

Eric nodded lazily, more out of expectation than actual desire. It simply happened.

He turned his back to Pam and began his trek to his office to speak with Bill, all the while thinking about Maria. Some part of him, perhaps a foolish part, never thought she'd really leave. He just assumed that it was another fight, a little spat that meant nothing. He should have known better than to challenge her. Maria always called his bluff.

He shouldn't have reacted the way he did to either Pam or Maria. It was a tense situation, just like the one he currently found himself in. He'd lashed out like a child because Maria and Pam both challenged him, but while Pam showed remorse, Maria was still defiant… and right. She'd been right.

The moment they'd saved Sookie and cleaned themselves up, she turned her back on him. When they were finally able to be together, she walked away –just like Maria said she would.

She'd been right about everything.

Tara scampered away while Eric found safety within his ego. Maria would come back like she had last time. She was only gone for a week then returned to Fangtasia. In a few more days, she'd be back and everything would go back to the way it was, at least as much as it could.

* * *

_A Week Later_

People milled around, lingering as they stared at the exhibits. She was no different on the outside, but Maria was far from a casual observer.

She meandered down the wide hall, moving with the tide. There were people speaking in hushed tones, some speaking at their regular volume, and kids complaining everywhere, but it all fell to the background when she spotted the massive portrait.

Behind her sunglasses, tears pricked at Maria's eyes. In front of her was a five-foot by three-foot portrait of her and her family. A gilded plaque fixed to the base of the ornate frame read _The Romanov Family 1916._

Her father sat in the center of the group in a crimson, military jacket. His hair and beard were perfectly quaffed and his gaze set firmly, but warmly. Her mother was beside him wearing a soft white dress appropriate of the time, a long string of pearls around her neck, and a small crown atop her head. Her expression was a bit colder, but serene.

The children were arranged around the pair with Maria sitting on the arm of her mother's chair. Olga was next in line, her arm draped over the high back. Tatiana was next, again leaning on the back of their mother's seat. Anastasia was on the opposite side, sitting just off their father's left elbow, and Little Alexi was on the floor holding onto their father's leg. All of the girls were dressed in white gowns, beaded and lace. Maria and Anastasia had small bows in their hair to show their ages. Her mother loved doing that, dressing the two eldest alike and the two youngest the same. She was known for it, in fact.

The portrait was in color which allowed her to see the color of her family's eyes once more. It hurt her to see them staring back at her, hurt worse than she thought physically possible. It wouldn't be long after that picture had been taken that they would be arrested and shortly after that, Maria would wake in a pile of their cold, lifeless bodies pressing down on her. The people in the picture didn't know what awaited them, and she envied them for it.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her father's cross around her neck threatened to pull her down, the necklace around her wrist doing the same.

When the ache in her chest reached a level she could no longer stand, Maria stepped away. The exhibit she'd come to see centralized around her family and their ancestry. Romanovs as far back as Katherine the Great were represented.

Maria continued on and spied a dozen heirlooms that had once been in her very own house: portraits, tea sets, silver, and statuary. In the west wing, she even found some of her mother's jewelry, pieces that had been handed down from both sets of grandparents, her Russian ancestors and her German ones. Given each was a branch of royalty, the pieces were centuries old.

And none of them belonged in a fucking museum. They belonged in the Romanov family.

There was a sudden and sharp crackle just before a voice came over the speakers.

A smooth female voice said, "Ladies and gentlemen, due to recent developments, the museum will be closing before sundown. In the next ten minutes, please make your way to the nearest exits. Thank you."

There was another crackle that bookended the announcement. Maria, along with the throngs of people, headed for the exits.

After the bombing of the True Blood factories, more and more businesses had been closing early. It reminded Maria of a horror movie, _The Purge_. Every night was Purge night now, so everyone with a pulse had to do everything they could to make sure they were inside a home before the sun set. It was only five o'clock in the afternoon, but darkness would fall in an hour and a half.

* * *

As the clocks ticked closer and closer to midnight, the world had gone, mostly, silent. There were still people walking about, but they were the sort of people who knew what to expect. And the majority of them were dead. Any 'sensible' human had already barricaded themselves inside somewhere leaving those seeking a bit of danger, Fangbangers basically, to prowl for their next vamp.

At least, that's what it was like in normal cities. She wasn't in a normal city anymore.

The glass gave way with a delicate, but satisfying crack. It opened a hole big enough for her to slide her body through with ease. As tenderly as she could, with her bag tied tightly to her back, Maria did just that.

The small ledge helped her navigate the open space with ease. Her footing was sure, quick, and silent.

Dim lights illuminated her way. In less time than it would take for a traffic light to turn green, she stood over the wing that held everything she wanted. Through her dark glasses, Maria could see the glittering trinkets of her family heirlooms hidden beneath a sheet of glass. In the background she heard the distant footfalls of the night security guard. He was far enough away. Maria knew she'd have seconds at best.

She took a deep breath and leapt down from her perch roughly twenty feet above. She landed almost silently and darted instantly to her family's jewels. She guided the bag that had been slung around her back to her front. After removing a glove, Maria dragged her claws across the sheet of thick, tempered glass that protected the pieces and, reaching back far, she slammed her fist into it. The sheet of glass shattered in a loud cascade, trickling to the tile floor beneath it.

She instantly began to scoop out the pieces, dumping them gracelessly into her bag while the alarm blared loudly. In the distance, she could hear the guard racing toward her. He was fast, but she was faster, and before he could round the corner, she was gone. On her way out, Maria smashed another, thinner glass case, retrieved the coronation album from within, and vanished.

Running on her toes, she darted easily through the floor plan she'd walked through a few hours prior. Within seconds, she was in the main belly of the museum where she'd made her entrance. Maria ran for the column and leapt up as far as she could. She managed to dig her fingernails into some of the ornate molding, used it to heave herself up, and was on the landing once more within seconds. She dove through the hole she made in the window and ran from the screaming building.

The night helped shield her as she ran through the park. The thick canopy of trees all but ensured not a single hint of exterior light could pierce it. Because of that, it made the orange glow of the streetlamps that lined the park's walkways easy to avoid.

Maria didn't slow down until she reached the corner of East 79th, and Lexington Ave. On the way, she torn off her dark glasses, the black balaclava she'd worn, and her gloves. She stowed them in her bag where she'd since put the coronation album along with the jewels. As she walked, she tugged up her long sleeves, and removed the tie that kept her long hair in a bun.

A flash of yellow caught her eye. Maria turned, threw her hand into the air, and whistled loudly. The cab pulled up to the corner and she slipped inside.

"So?" The burly man behind the wheel asked with a short, clipped tone.

"8th Ave. The Wyndham." She told him plainly.

"Yup," He said. He proceeded to turn on the meter, pulled into traffic, and set off toward the hotel.

They made the journey lazily, following the ebb and flow of the other hundred cars with them. So many people…

As they reached another in a seemingly endless line of red lights, Maria's phone began to ring. Two people had the number and that knowledge instantly put her in a bad mood. She didn't even look at the screen when she answered, something she shouldn't have done.

"What?" She said into the receiver.

There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line. "Where are you?"

His voice was emotionless, cool and calm, but it still sent a chill racing down her back.

"Why?" She asked harshly.

Half a minute passed before Eric spoke again. "Where are you?" He repeated, though this time something else touched his voice. It had dipped just enough to bother her.

Before she could answer, the cabby pulled up to her hotel. "We're here." He called to her over his shoulder.

"Who's that?" Eric asked with a growl.

Maria ignored him. She dug into a zipper pocket of her bag, waved a card over the device on her side of the partition. It dinged, signifying her payment. It asked if she wanted a receipt, she pressed no, and promptly exited the cab.

"What do you want, Viking?" She asked as she crossed the sidewalk and entered the building. Without pausing, she headed for the elevators.

"Are you safe?"

"I'm not in Louisiana, if that's what you want to know." She kept her tone light, but with an undeniable edge of annoyance.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. Inside, she pressed the button for her floor and promptly sailed high into the air. She'd made it up six floors and still Eric hadn't spoken. Maria arched an annoyed brow.

"What. Do. You. Want." She repeated, stressing each word to show how much she didn't want to be having her current conversation.

Maria continued on her trek when she made it to her floor, walked down the hall, and to her door. She slid the plastic key into the slot and stepped inside. The weighted door closed behind her.

"Nothing," He finally said.

Her brows tugged together and the next sound to meet her ear was one of nothingness. It wasn't the silence of an open line. Instead, it was simply nothingness that told her there was no call. Sure enough, when she drew her phone back, the call had ended.

She didn't know what to make of the situation and chose to simply ignore it. Shaking her head, she tossed her phone onto her bed, slid off her bag and set it gently beside the device before she approached her wide window. A sense of accomplishment filled her as she stared at the New York City skyline.

* * *

Within the bunker hidden so far below ground it would be forever cold, Eric leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees. The cellphone he'd stolen was pressed to the underside of his chin. He was surprised he managed to get a call out in the first place, let alone that it lasted as long as it did, but it came to nothing. He didn't know what he expected.

Maria wasn't warm or welcoming, nor did he think she should have been. Ever since his mind cleared, and he was forced to realize that he was in a nest of insanity, Eric thought often of Pam and Maria. He'd left things badly with them both. Angry words and threats of violence, that would be their memory of him.

Pam would understand. She'd have to, really. She'd been with him long enough to survive his temper tantrums and as his Progeny, they shared a bond deeper than most. Maria was something different. They'd been together for a good while, but the majority of their time together had been peaceful. They didn't have the same connection he did with Pam, or had they been through enough for her to know he hadn't meant the attitude. As a result, Eric was aware he may have caused irreparable damage.

As he sat there, staring at the stark, ugly floor that stretched out before him, Eric clenched his fist. His fingers easily broke the cellphone. Pieces of cheap plastic rendered useless clattered to the floor in a soft cascade. He opened his hand to allow the rest to tumble free, too.


	30. Chapter 30

**AN:** Cue the anger-enducing chapter! Lol. I won't even lie, a few of you are going to be pissed by the end of this chapter, but I have a plan! I promise, this leads somewhere, and I actually like where. So, I hope you'll trust me. Anywho, feel free to let me know what you think, cause I think some of you might vent (sorry again), and enjoy!

**Chapter 30**

_Two Weeks Later_

Banks were unreliable.

A house was unreliable.

If someone had goods they wished to keep secret, there truly was only one place where they could be put: a cave.

Or, at the very least, something similar.

In the middle of unused farmland in Oklahoma, not far outside Tulsa, there was an underground bunker. There used to be a farmhouse on the land, complete with a storm shelter because of the annual frequency of tornados required it. One such storm tore the house to its foundation, and Maria chose to never rebuild. But the storm shelter, however, was quite useful.

Maria parked on the gravel driveway and retrieved a few mailing boxes from the passenger seat. She took them with her beyond the cleared and overgrown foundation to a small mound. On the other side was a steel trap door. Maria unlocked the plain padlock while she balanced her packages, and stepped inside.

The interior of the storm shelter was nothing more than cinderblock walls and struts to hold up the roof. There were cobwebs and the place smelled of dank. No person in their right mind would keep anything of value in it.

To the left, Maria approached the plain wall. There was a crack no thicker than the width of a finger, and three fingers long in the seam between the blocks. Balancing the packages once more beneath her arm, Maria slid her fingers within and curled them. With a hefty pull, she drew back the wall much like one would a door. In many ways, perhaps it was. Behind it was another more modern door, one made of thick steel, far stronger than the rest of the hovel.

Maria placed her thumb on a computerized panel. Gears turned and hinges groaned as the door unlocked and loosened. She opened it, absentmindedly wiped her thumbprint from the pad, and stepped inside.

Years ago, back when the Cold War was still a thing but winding down, Maria purchased the land she now stood within. She knew, long ago, and had learned from her parents that hiding places were a good idea. Maria agreed, thus the farm in Oklahoma, far from where someone might think to look.

She hired multiple contractors to do small bits of work at a time, while doing other bits herself. She made sure no one had a complete idea of what she was building. In truth, most people probably assumed she was a Doomsday Prepper.

Hidden within two feet of steel-lined concrete rested a room filled with things that Maria had stolen through the last four decades. She'd been a thief since she was a teenager forced to live on her own and survive, but back then she stole only enough to keep herself going. At the time, she was unwilling to part with any of her family's gems or trinkets. That hesitation ensured their value grew, however. And when she finally chose to sell a sizable emerald, Maria acquired a tidy sum.

Crates, trunks, and boxes were stacked against the walls. Some held clothing, pieces folded neatly within separate pieces of packing paper. Others held pictures and memorabilia. The prevailing theme was family.

Maria set the boxes down on an old trunk, lining the three of them up side by side. She tugged off her gloves and promptly slipped her pinky nail beneath the tape. It gave way easily.

Before she left New York, Maria acquired a small handful of flat-rate boxes from the closest post office. She proceeded to package her haul delicately and carefully within each of them, addressed them to her P.O. Box in Oklahoma, and mailed them out. She then purchased a train ticket for the same city, and left without a single eye drifting in her direction.

The boxes had arrived the day after Maria did, so she picked them up, and happily added them to her other pieces. Within the first was one of her mother's pearl necklaces wrapped delicately within cloth and packing paper. Alongside it were a few broaches, and one of her tiaras. Maria felt an itch in the back of her throat as she looked them over. She remembered every time her mother wore them.

In the second box was her family's coronation book, a tome that detailed the coronation dates of her ancestors as far back as Katherine the Great up to her father. She set it aside and opened the third. Within it was Olga's bracelet, Tatiana's tiara and a ring their father had given her when she turned thirteen, and a silver chain with a single teardrop pearl that he'd given to Anastasia.

Maria set them out and broke down the boxes they'd been in before discarding them. Behind her was a wooden box, ornately carved and made for a specific purpose. She opened it and nestled within were mounds in two rows of three. Surrounding two of those mounds were a pair of ornate and delicate tiaras. Maria tenderly placed the other two into the box and closed it tightly. Another carved chest held broaches, a separate one simpler necklaces and bracelets.

When the jewelry was set aside and safe, Maria left, taking the cardboard mailing boxes with her. The book she left in a stack with some others –old family diaries.

In recent years, Maria had done what she could to raid exhibits and personal collections, stealing back what she felt was taken from her. She couldn't have her family back, but she could have their things.

With every door locked and closed tightly, Maria stepped out into the sunlight. She got into her car and headed for the freeway.

It was a six hour drive to Shreveport.

* * *

_Season 6, Episode 2_

Sookie sat there listening to Jason spout a thousand different things that made little to no sense. She knew he wasn't relaying the information properly. It was a handicap of his. Sometimes, he was just too excited to manage a coherent story.

She did get the basics, though. The worst of which, by far, was that Warlow was on their plane.

"There are a few things you should know." Her Fairy Grandfather Niall said. "Warlow has been obsessed with our family for thousands of years."

"Why?"

"Because we are the _original_ fay. Our family comes from the oldest line. We're royalty and I am the king of our tribe."

Sookie sat back listening intently and asking a few questions when they would arise, but her mind was still primarily scattered. A long time ago, Sookie learned to simply accept the information she was being given as gospel. It helped her cope, but at the same time, some things were a little out there. Like her being a fairy princess, for example.

"Well, ain't you got like, guards or somethin'?" Jason asked, drawing her back into the moment. "All kings got like, knights and shit."

"Not us. Not anymore." Niall answered.

"But ya did."

"Thropes." Sookie said, though the word left her without her meaning it to.

Niall turned a curious gaze to her. "How do you know about thropes?"

"I met one." Sookie said. She wasn't exactly 'warm' with the response.

Niall leaned forward, scooting himself a bit closer to her. "Is this thrope a friend of yours?"

"No," Sookie scoffed. "She hates me, actually."

His brows rose and he nodded. "That makes more sense. They have an innate fear of our kind. Then again, they're just animals. Can't really expect them to know much better."

"The hell's a thrope?" Jason asked in a demanding tone. It was the tone he used when he didn't really know what was happening.

"Uh, they're creatures the fay created a long time ago." Niall responded. "After Warlow's first rampage, before our kind had created the other worlds to hide in and we were still living on this plane, we created thropes to protect us from the growing vampire threat."

"Well, okay. Let's get us one of them."

"It's not that easy, Jason." Sookie told him. "Maria hates me, a lot."

"Wait, ain't that the girl that hangs 'round Eric and them?"

Sookie nodded. Jason's brows rose and he fell back in his seat as he let out a sigh.

"Can you get close to her?" Niall asked, suddenly sounding very interested.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe. Why?"

"Brand her." He said simply.

"Bran-… I'm not going to brand someone. That's barbaric."

"Yeah, plus, we ain't got a brandin' iron-thing."

Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Brand her with your Light." He told her. "Then, she's under your control."

Sookie perked a little. "Under my control? What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said. If you touch her with your Light, then she's bound to you. She'll be forced to do everything you tell her to, including protecting you from Warlow."

Sookie sat back and thought over what Niall had said. She had to admit, the thought of having a supernatural body guard who wouldn't burn to death in the daylight was a nice one, but she didn't know if she could do that to someone. Then again, on the other hand, sometimes she hated Maria.

Niall seemed to sense her apprehension and drew her eye again when he spoke. "If it makes you feel any better, you can always release her later."

She offered him a small smile and a nod before the conversation took another divergence. In the back of her mind, however, she wondered if maybe she shouldn't just do what Niall suggested. If Warlow really was as bad as literally e_veryone_ said he was, then it might not be such a bad idea to have some extra help. Besides, it wasn't as though Bill and Eric were jumping at the chance.

* * *

Maria woke in the familiar comfort of her bed. As per her usual routine, Maria rose, headed for the bathroom, and then promptly went downstairs for something to eat.

She passed boxes that lined the walls, each labeled with what they had within. Ever since she'd been 'excused' from Eric's employment, Maria had been packing up her house while simultaneously regaining her family history. She was slow to do so, but had every intention of calling a moving company to take her belongings to a storage unit where they would stay for an indeterminate amount of time. The house was hers, tailored to her style and it had become home. She had no intentions of selling it, but didn't wish to live in it at the moment, either. So, in a few years, perhaps a decade, she would return.

Maria sipped on her coffee while she spread some butter over a slice of bread. The rest of the day she'd be tenderly packing the small life she'd created for herself.

She knew she should have felt worse than she currently did at that moment. She was well aware of the fact, actually, which was why she hadn't stopped moving since she left the Moon Goddess Emporium. Keeping busy was the only thing that kept her mind off Eric. Her dreams, so far, had been Viking-free, but she knew it wouldn't last long. At some point, he'd slide back into her mind, flash his charming smile, and she'd feel that pull once more.

Hours passed and Maria continued to lazily pack things up. At the moment, she was in the middle of placing some books she'd read within a box. She did love to read.

As she set the last that would fit in the box, there was a knock on her door. Curiously, Maria rose to answer it. Curiosity drove her and against her better judgment, she opened the door. To her shock, it wasn't Pam who stood on the doorstep. It wasn't Pam or King Bill. It was Sookie.

A wave of pure rage swept through her, vibrating every nerve and molecule within her body. The lion clawed and roared within her, begging to come free. A torrent of emotion struggled to be released, but, calling on every iota of proper 'training' Maria had been given since birth, she remained calm and stoic on the outside.

"What?" She asked with a bitter voice.

Sookie's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, but she wiped the look from her face quickly.

"Hi, Maria." She said. Her voice might have been nondescript, but it more resembled nails on a chalkboard to Maria. "Can I come in?"

"No." Maria said plainly. "How the fuck do you know where I live?"

She was rude and she knew it. In all honesty, her etiquette lessons only extended so far.

"Oh, uh… Jason… my brother, he's a cop and I'm pretty good friends with the whole force."

Maria arched a brow. She was still holding the door open and her grip tensed around it. She faintly heard the wood creak.

"Look," Maria heard her voice tremble with a hint of the rage she was losing her battle with. "You should go, really, because I can't promise this conversation's going to stay so polite."

Sookie's face crunched together and it was then Maria knew that the blond wasn't interested in keeping up with the veil of propriety, either.

"What's wrong with you?" She snapped. "What'd I _ever_ do to you, huh?"

"I don't like you." Maria said. She found herself stepping forward, approaching the young woman and forcing her to retreat. "I can't stand the way you look, the sound of your voice, or the way you smell." Each step forced Sookie further and further from Maria's door until the blonde has no choice but to walk down the porch's steps. "Forgetting the fact that your fairy blood is genuinely offensive," Sookie scowled. "I don't like you as a person. Every time you come around, shit goes sideways. You know what happened while you were gone?" Maria finally stopped her advance when Sookie was forced to stand beside her car parked in the driveway. "You had to notice it. _Everyone_ was better off when you were gone. We were happy. But the second you show up again," Maria dragged her bottom lip between her pointed teeth. She shook her head. "You're like a plague." Sookie flinched. "All of your kind is." Electricity coursed through her body, her fingers twitched with need. "The world would be better off without you."

It happened in an instant. Maria reached out and grabbed Sookie by the throat. She threw her to the ground and was on her immediately, her body pinning that of the struggling waitress beneath her. Out of habit, she was wearing her gloves so she was safe from gleaning the fairy's life.

Maria bit into the tip of the fingers of her other hand and loosened the leather. When her hand was free, she spat out the glove. Maria placed the edge of her index fingernail against the blonde's rosy cheek.

"You're not worth the trouble you cause." Maria growled deep within her throat. Her eyes found focus on her finger. With minimal pressure, the tip pierced into the soft flesh. "You know what I said to your precious Viking about you?" Sookie didn't reply. She just continued to hold the wrist of the hand secured around her throat, as though she'd manage to gain any headway at all. Maria leaned even closer until she was sure she had Sookie's terrified gaze. "I told him I'd slice open your face the next time I saw you."

Sookie's eyes widened further, if it was possible, and a pathetic whimper left her parted lips. Maria slid her fingernail down the length of Sookie's cheek. It sliced through her skin with astounding ease. Maria watched as the flesh parted in her nail's wake and crimson began to pour from it. Sookie let out a scream that would rival a banshee's.

Maria's lips quirked into a grin. When she reached the end of the line, just before Sookie's jaw, she lifted her fingernail back to her cheekbone where the first cut had begun. Like before, she pressed it into her skin.

There was an undeniable joy that Maria felt maiming Sookie Stackhouse's face. It wasn't just that the blonde had ruined her personal life, but it was everything. Everything she caused, every bit of pain and trouble that followed Sookie… it was for all of that. Maria had every intention of giving Sookie a mark for each slight.

As she reveled in the pain she caused, something washed over her. Maria flew through the air, her body temporarily stunned motionless. She hadn't managed to catch herself before she hit the ground –hard. The wind had been knocked from her and her vision blurred when she finally opened her eyes. Maria stared up at the sky and groaned. She felt like she'd just been hit with a million-volt taser.

Somehow, Maria eventually managed to roll onto her hands and knees. Gradually, she shoved herself to her feet and set a murderous gaze on Sookie. Sookie was bleeding from the cheek, brilliant red liquid glinting in the pale night as it ran down her cheek and neck, dangerously close to touching her collar. She had murder in her eyes, too. In a fight, Maria knew she'd win.

"You fucking fairy cunt!" Maria bellowed. "I'm going to rip you heart out with my teeth!"

She roared viciously and launched herself at the waitress. Sookie was all she saw, a beacon in the dark and the target of her rage.

"Stop!" Sookie suddenly screamed when Maria was dangerously close to grabbing her again.

And she did. Every muscle in Maria's body seized and went still. She was mid-run, an arm extended and her dangerous grip less than a foot from reaching her target. Maria's brows tugged together. She pushed, pouring all of her will into trying to move her body, but it wouldn't. She'd settle for a pinky, but still she remained motionless.

"What did you do?!" Maria howled.

Sookie jumped. She was breathing heavily and took a weary step back. The blonde seemed just as surprised as Maria by what happened, but her shock subsided faster.

"Put your hand down." Sookie said.

As before, Maria complied despite her best efforts.

"Stand normally."

Maria did and what crossed Sookie's face could only be described as a perverse joy, the kind someone got when they knew they were the one in control.

Maria's heart fell.


	31. Chapter 31

**AN:** Hey guys! BOOM! Here's the new one. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter 31**

Maria screamed and hollered, shouted and bellowed her undeniable rage. She was shaking, every muscle so tight and stressed that they bulged beneath her skin. She was so enraged that she would be thrashing if she had the chance. But no, she couldn't move. Sookie had robbed her of the ability to move a single muscle.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you fairy bitch." She growled. Maria didn't even sound human anymore, her voice twisted by both emotion and the animal within. She leveled her stare on the blonde. "When I get free of this bullshit, I'm going to bite into that pretty little face of yours and tear it off. I'm going to enjoy feeling your bones shatter between my teeth, feeling your hot blood glide down my throat." Sookie began to tremble. "The _second_ I'm out of this, I'm going to-"

"Shut up!" Sookie squeaked.

As she had before, Maria instantly complied, and her mouth snapped shut. Her eyes began to well with tears.

Sookie looked over her, eyes taking in everything. Maria wanted to lunge, she wanted to fight. She wanted to do a thousand things, but she fucking couldn't and it made her feel helpless. Christ, it'd been a long while since Maria felt helpless. Back then, it was because of an all-powerful sorcerer. Now? Now, it was because of a hundred-pound fairy waitress.

"Okay, so…" Sookie's voice raked at Maria's nerves like red hot pokers. "I guess this means you have to protect me, doesn't it?"

Maria didn't speak.

"Well?" Sookie asked angrily.

"_Does this dumb cunt think I can actually speak?"_ Maria thought. "_She told me to shut up, so ta-dah, bitch! I can't fucking talk. Is she really this fucking stupid, too?"_

Sookie scowled. "Fine, you can talk." She said. "But!" Sookie was quick to reply. "No more talkin' 'bout how you plan to kill me."

"Fine," Maria growled through her teeth.

"Fine," Sookie nodded softly. She shifted her weight on her feet before she spoke again. "So, like I said, I guess this means you have to protect me now?"

"How the fuck should I know?!" Maria bellowed. "From the looks of it, whatever you say, I have to fucking do, you selfish, manipulative, spoiled little-"

"Shh," Sookie said sharply. Maria instantly shut up again. "Okay, then. If that's how it works… I command you to protect me from Warlow and uh… from any other vampires that want to drink my blood."

Maria remained motionless. She wasn't going to bow or nod. There'd be no point, and each action would show a level of respect that she wasn't willing to give the fairy who'd enslaved her.

"And uh… I command you not to hurt me in any way, or any other human. Okay?"

Somehow, Maria managed to push a word past her lips, though it was difficult. "Fine,"

"Okay… Let's go, then."

Sookie got into her car, and regardless of will, Maria did the same.

Roughly an hour later, they made it to Bon Temps. Sookie ushered Maria inside before anyone could see her and told her to hide in the fucking wardrobe in the sewing room.

"I'll let you come out later." Sookie said. "I guess you probably eat food and stuff like a normal person."

"Of course I do." Maria couldn't move her jaw when she spoke. Instead, it remained tightly clamped shut.

Sookie nodded. She seemed slightly distracted, eying a napkin that she'd picked up on the way to the wardrobe. There was a bit of blood on it, and it wasn't human. Maria watched her wipe it down her cheek over the wounds Maria had clawed into her face and, to the thrope's anger, the cuts vanished.

"Go," Sookie said, pointing down the hole. "And don't make a sound. And don't come up 'till I come get you."

Maria hissed at her like a feral animal, but did as she was commanded.

* * *

Eric struggled to sleep. He was uncomfortable just from being underground with Willa in his arms, feeling chunks of rock and broken roots jabbing into his skin was bad enough, but not the only reason. It was Maria. She was angry, so goddamn angry that he could practically taste it. In fact, it overshadowed the flavor of Willa's blood and dirt. It was so overwhelming that he couldn't say where it ended and his own began.

Vampires can feel the emotions of the people they fed their blood to, but because it would be too inconvenient to feel absolutely everything, they could only glean the most extreme. Fear was usually that emotion, but not with Maria. In fact, the only time he felt anything from her, it was either rage or that brief time of abject terror from Rasputin. To be honest, the anger she currently felt was equal to that terror. It was unnatural and fueled by something. He had no idea what could possibly make a person feel something so completely and so thoroughly.

It couldn't have been good, and for the briefest of moments it made him want to join her side. Eric wanted to be with her, to try and sooth the tempest of rage that was swirling within her, but he couldn't. It was the middle of the day. He'd burn to a crisp before he could even reach her.

Eric did his best to get as comfortable as he could while his mind drifted to thoughts of Maria. He'd been so consumed in dealing with the AVL, and now the Louisiana government that he hadn't given her much consideration beyond the phone call some time back.

He wondered how she was, and what she was doing. He wondered if he'd see her again, and if she'd come when he called. He doubted that. Not even his pride would allow him to believe she'd willingly join his side if he called her and told her to. He saw the look in her eye when he told her their bargain was done. Any affection she'd shown him while he was a mindless shell and before had vanished. It was gone, literally blinked out of existence in mere seconds. She went back to looking at him like she had when she was locked in that box.

On one level, he did understand it. On the other, he thought she was just being childish. Maria couldn't have genuinely thought they'd be together forever. Hell, they weren't even dating. They had sex with each other, nothing more. Pretending there were actual layers to their relationship was something humans did to delude themselves. He was a vampire. Vampires didn't have a loving bond with anyone. They didn't _need_ anyone, so if Maria was going to act hurt because he didn't fall to her feet and kiss the ground she walked on, she was an idiot.

…

…

Not even Eric really believed that.

* * *

Maria paced inside her cell. Although, honestly, it wasn't even a cell. At least those had bathrooms and a way for fresh air to enter the space. What Maria found herself in was a box, and one that was hermetically sealed.

The air was stale and used. She could taste the carbon dioxide. Whoever the chamber was meant to house, they clearly weren't supposed to breathe, or use the bathroom. Given it was light-tight too, she assumed it was for a vampire.

Maria was hungry, she had to pee, she wanted something to drink, and a new wave of air might have been a nice touch. But what could she do? Sookie told her to stay in the cell, to not make a sound. She was powerless.

There was a click that made Maria stop. She went still when the door above opened. When it had, a beautiful gust of fresh air glided down the stairs and to her nose. Maria's eyes drifted shut as she breathed as deeply as possible. The air itself was utterly amazing, but in the distance there was a hint of food that made her stomach curl. It was then Maria realized that she was so hungry that the smell of food actually made her ill.

Sookie descended the stairs, but kept her eye on Maria until she could safely turn around to face her. There wasn't a point. Even as badly as Maria wanted to lash out, she couldn't. Sookie _commanded_ her not to harm the fairy.

Neither spoke, although Maria technically couldn't. Sookie was shifting on her feet, either unable or unwilling to stand still. Given how strong the smell of anxiety was, Maria assumed it was the former.

"_Christ, what does she want now?"_ Maria thought to herself. _"She here to give me more commands? Maybe now she'll tell me to stop breathing? Shit. If she kept that door closed much longer, I would've just suffocated. I'm not a fucking vampire. Doesn't she realize that locking me inside a fucking cell four hours on end with no food, no water, no bathroom break, and no fucking air will kill me. Dumbass. Is she really that self-"_

"I got you some food." Sookie said in a stern sort of voice, as though she could hear everything running through Maria's head, or at least caught onto the thrope's agitation. "And you can do whatever you need to do, bathroom or whatever." Maria cocked a brow, but didn't move. Sookie stepped aside and motioned to the stairs. "You can go."

Maria didn't hesitate. She launched herself up the ladder faster than Sookie could register. She burst out of the armor and was through the front door in seconds, barely able to hear Sookie yelling at her.

She ran, ran as fast as she could just to get the hell away from Sookie Stackhouse. She needed to put space between them, get far enough away that she never had to hear another word leave that fairy's mouth again.

Maria leapt off the front porch and the instant her toes touched the ground, she was off, propelling herself forward with all her strength. She ran and ran, until she hit something. Without warning, Maria slammed into a barrier that she hadn't seen because there was nothing to see. It was invisible, but strong.

Maria let out a yelp of pain when she hit the wall and bounced off of it like a racket ball thrown at full force. Her back hit the ground and all of the air was taken from her. Dazed, Maria did everything she could to get to her feet before Sookie could call out to her again.

On all fours, Maria clamored to get away. Within a few steps, she was on her feet again, but just as before, she hit the barrier. Confusion took her. With her brows furrowed, Maria pushed and eventually began to bang on the invisible thing that kept her where she was.

She beat and beat and at some point she was able to take another step. Encouraged, she continued on, banging against the wall like it could give at any second.

"Hey!" She heard Sookie shout.

Maria turned around, her eyes set sternly on the fairy. She pressed her back to the wall that wouldn't let her leave. Sookie was scowling, clearly angry, but slightly confused. Maria hummed to herself to hopefully drown out whatever the bitch might say because, unfortunately, Maria's hearing was good enough to cross the distance.

Sookie stepped forward and the wall behind her gave a little more. Maria continued to shove against it and each time Sookie approached, she gained a bit of headway, until the fairy stopped. The wall stopped, too.

And then she understood.

Maria's mind connected the dots faster than she expected it to, but it connected them all the same.

"Where you think yer-"

"Take two steps forward!" Maria yelled back at her.

"What?" She snapped.

"Just walk forward, goddammit." Maria shouted.

Still scowling, Sookie did –two wide steps. Maria, with her eyes still on the blonde, took two equal steps in reverse and then hit the wall again. It was all the proof she needed.

"FUCK!" She screamed, the single word lasting for seconds longer than it normally should have.

She couldn't leave. Maria couldn't leave, couldn't run away, and couldn't flee. There was a leash that connected her to Sookie, an invisible tether that looked like it was probably fifty feet at the most. Whatever Sookie had done had bound Maria to her.

Maria looked up at the blonde, vibrating with rage and eyes filled with angry tears, and she noticed understanding wash across the fairy's face. Again, it looked as though Sookie had read her mind, as though she came to the same conclusion when Maria had.

Breathing heavily and so angry she would burst, Maria just stared at her.

"There's food on the table." Sookie told her, shouting the distance so the thrope could hear her. "Either come eat it, or I'll throw it away."

Sookie turned and headed back inside. Maria was instantly pulled in the same direction, drawn to her whether she wanted to be or not.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?

* * *

Inside, Sookie sat at the kitchen table with a bag of hamburgers she'd picked up from the local fast food place. They were nothing special, but she figured she might as well get something to feed Maria. Everything needed to eat and if she was going to keep the thrope as a bodyguard, Sookie knew she had to keep her strength up.

Through the kitchen window, she noticed Maria reluctantly heading toward the house. Sookie had to admit that the smile that touched her lips was a bit arrogant, but well-deserved as far as she was concerned. She felt like she'd won. Niall never told her that the thrope couldn't move more than a few dozen feet away from the fairy who branded them. That was helpful knowledge. At least now Sookie didn't have to worry about Maria running off, something she hadn't even thought about until the thrope actually tried.

Maria entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table, all the while keeping her cold, murderous eyes on Sookie. The blonde could feel the hatred. It radiated off of Maria like smoke. It was almost palpable.

Sookie believed her when Maria said she'd kill the fairy the first chance she got.

Maria remained silent as she dipped into the bag and pulled out the two burgers from inside. She unwrapped one and proceeded to eat it, all the while Sookie watched her. She was curious.

"What kinda thrope are you?" Sookie finally asked.

Maria's gaze drifted to her and locked with Sookie's. Her eyes practically glowed green, but she remained silent while she chewed. When she'd finished, Maria took another bite. It was clear she had no intentions of answering.

"Are you really one of those Romanovs, like that Anastasia girl?" Sookie asked.

Maria remained silent, yet again. She finished her first burger and began on the second, still staring, and still quiet.

Sookie clenched her jaw. She was getting annoyed and decided to just ask a random question.

"How old are you?" She asked in an almost exasperated voice.

She wasn't surprised when Maria said nothing. When she finally finished her burger, Maria leaned back in her seat and proceeded to obnoxiously suck on her teeth, all the while staring unblinkingly at Sookie.

"Answer me," Sookie said in a demanding tone.

Maria flinched and to Sookie's surprise, the answers flowed from Maria's mouth.

"I'm a felithrope. Anastasia was my little sister. One-hundred and thirteen until next month."

Sookie blinked a few times as she tried to absorb the information. It wasn't that she'd been given anything incredibly complicated, just that she'd been given a lot all at once.

"You're over a hundred years old." She repeated. Forced to answer, Maria nodded. "How's that possible?"

"I haven't died yet." She replied coldly.

Sookie scowled. "So, you're immortal?"

"No."

"But you turn into an animal?"

"Yes."

"What kinda animal?"

"A lion."

Sookie's brows rose in surprise. "Really?" She couldn't keep the shock from her voice when she asked. And, again, in that same annoyed sarcasm, Maria nodded. "And everyone in your family could do that?"

"No,"

Sookie's brows pulled together slightly. "But, isn't it like werewolves, where you inherit it?"

"Yes,"

"But not everybody could?"

"No,"

"So, some of them could?"

"Yes,"

Sookie grumbled. She was going in circles because Maria was replying with vague, one-word answers. Apparently that was the best Sookie could hope for. After dealing with Bill the night before, finding out that Warlow was the cute guy Ben she'd met, dealing with Jason nearly dying, her Fairy Grandfather suddenly showing up, and a whole bunch of other shit, Sookie wasn't in the mood to deal with Maria, too.

"What is your fuckin' problem?" She finally snapped, angry enough that she was done playing the Southern Belle.

Maria's brows rose in mock surprise before, like her previous answer, everything simply flowed from her mouth.

"What's my fucking problem?" Maria repeated in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You don't get it, do you? I _hate_ you. In fact, hate isn't a big enough word to describe how I feel about you."

"Why?" She said tersely. "What did I ever do to you, huh? I always tried to be nice, but no, you just had to be a bitch."

"You shot me!" Maria yelled. "And fine, let's pretend that never happened. You are physically offensive to me. Do you understand that? The same thing that makes you so goddamn irresistible to fucking vampires makes me physically sick."

"Why?"

Maria leaned forward to the point she could have propped her elbows on the table, but she didn't, as though she was unwilling to get even that close to Sookie.

"Your kind made us your pets." She said hatefully. "You enslaved us for _thousands_ of years. You kept us on chains, paraded us like prized ponies, and then bred us so that when one generation died, the next was _right fucking there_ to take up the mantle. You treated us like shit for so damn long that it actually put a natural fear in us every time we smell fairy. Do you have any idea how fucked up that is? Hell," She fell back in her seat. "It wouldn't surprise me if you assholes actually _made_ us afraid of you on purpose with magic or something."

"That's not fair." Sookie said with a confrontational edge of her own. "I never did any of that to you or your kind. You can't sit there and hate me 'cause of something my ancestors did. That's not fair."

"Not fair?" Maria's eyes went wide. "You're doing it now!" She yelled. "You turned me into your little guard dog at the drop of a fucking hat. You're just as bad as they were. All you fairies are the same and honestly," She leaned forward once more, "You better pray whoever you're running from kills me, because I meant it. If I get free, I _will_ kill you. I'll kill you for what you've done to me, and what your family did to mine."

Sookie believed her. There was something undeniable about the conviction in Maria's voice. In that moment, Sookie made the resolute decision that she would never, absolutely _never_ release Maria. She couldn't risk it.

Then again, she might have been able to make Maria come over to her side. Sookie had a knack for making people like her. Maybe if she managed that, at least Maria wouldn't be quite as hostile.

"Look," All of the edge left Sookie's voice when she spoke again. "You can take the guest bedroom, the one right by the stairs, and you can eat, drink, and go to the bathroom whenever ya want, but stay outta sight. I don't need to try and explain to people who you are, or that I have a supernatural lion protectin' me, okay?"

"Fine," she said, voicing her normal response to everything.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN:** Hey guys! This one is pretty damn long because I wanted to wrap up season 6, and I almost did. Anyway, let me know what you think and please, enjoy!

**Chapter 32**

Maria abused her freedom. Besides, she didn't want to be near Sookie or whoever the hell her vampire date was. Jesus, the moment he stepped foot through the door, the scent of fay became overwhelming so Maria, who'd decided to soak in a bath, dumped almost the entire bottle of Sookie's apple shampoo into the bathwater –anything to drown out the stench.

There was a tablespoon, perhaps a little less, left in the bottle. That was plenty for the blond to wash her hair, as far as Maria was concerned. But, oh dear. There was too much conditioner left. Smiling to herself, Maria repeated the petty action with the conditioner, smiling as she did. It was childish, but she didn't care. Maria would take whatever small victories she could.

A fight broke out downstairs at some point, an argument that Maria paid passing attention to.

"_All you vampires tell me you love me, but it's bullshit. All you wanna do is fuck me, own me, and use my blood."_

She rolled her eyes and went back to lazily swishing the bubbles around in her water. The front door burst open.

"_Oh great. Are you here to save me, too?"_

"_No, I'm here for him."_ King Bill said.

That was when Maria tuned out. She couldn't care less about vampire drama. A few minutes later, she heard Sookie charge upstairs, grumbling and muttering angry words as she did. They made Maria smile to herself.

Eventually, she'd get out of the bathtub and go to bed. She wished she had her phone, but what would be the point? She only knew two people. It wasn't as though she could ask either of them for help. Eric was useless when it came to his blonde little sweetheart. He'd probably take her side over Maria's, which sent a pang racing through her heart.

And Pam? Well, wonderfully violent Pam would happily kill Sookie just for the chance. It wouldn't even be a favor, really. It'd be almost like giving Pam permission to do something she already wanted to do, so she knew the giantess would. But the downside was Maria had been commanded to protect Sookie from vampires. Maria didn't know anyone else.

So, honestly, she was shit out of luck. For now, at least.

* * *

Eric sat on one of the cold, unforgiving benches within the vampire compound. He felt the sun had already risen, and a trickle of blood was attempting to make its way out of his ears, but he wasn't as willing as the others had been to slide into one of the morgue coolers –the drawers- that had been given to them as bunks. He couldn't tell if it was paranoia or not, but something told Eric that the governor and his men weren't above killing a vampire while they slept. Silver spikes? Wooden stakes? Perhaps filling the chamber with colloidal silver-laced air? Maybe there were even ultra violet lights hidden within, meant to turn on in random intervals?

Either way, he wasn't in the mood to leave himself so vulnerable.

As he sat on the bench, alone for the first time in a while, Eric again found himself thinking. It wasn't uncommon, really. His mind was never silent, always a mix of jumbled things that needed to be sorted. Part of him missed the days when his largest worry was something to do with Fangtasia.

Fangtasia… he wondered what had happened to it now that he and Pam were gone. Some undead vulture had probably swept in and claimed it for themselves. He wouldn't be surprised.

Eric could feel Pam was close. It was a nagging little feeling on the back of his neck, a sensation that he couldn't completely express. She was safe for the moment, but there was no way to know when that would change, and that frightened him. Despite being released, Pam was and forever would be his child. And he loved her. He always would.

The knowledge that she could take care of herself was comforting in a fleeting way. Just because he knew she was able didn't mean he didn't worry like every other parent in the world. It made him glad he only had one prog-

_Oh, Willa… right,_ he thought to himself, but it passed relatively quickly. If anyone would be safe from the governor, surely it was his own daughter.

The trickle of blood that left his ears had made it to his long and slender neck. He could feel it inching its way down, further and further until it could join the collar of his shirt. His nose was bleeding as well. He felt the cold wetness on his upper lip. If he opened his mouth even a little he'd be able to taste it, too.

He needed rest. He needed sleep. He needed-

_Maria._

Her name flashed in his head and bubbled in his throat without warning. One moment he'd been entirely free of the Russian monarch. The next he was milliseconds from speaking her name out loud for no other reason than she'd crossed his mind.

Eric reached out without hands and searched for her. His eyes drifted shut and his breathing stopped entirely. There, in the distance somewhere, he felt Maria. She was still boiling with anger, but it wasn't the regular sort. It was a deep anger, a roiling, churning, burning sort of anger that threatened to consume someone who was lesser than. It was the sort of anger that he had felt for so many years in his long life that they had become the deepest of friends. And when he saw that familiar face glinting in someone else's eye, he knew they were kindred.

He'd seen it in Maria when he opened the box. Saw it in her when she looked at him for months after. He'd seen it when she was near Sookie, or Russell Edgington, or anyone _she_ considered lesser than.

Eric's mind flashed with images of Maria, brief snippets of the last couple of years. Had it really been that long? Or, had it been that short, rather. So many life-changing events had rocked Eric since Maria had joined his side that it felt as though they'd known one another for centuries. But that wasn't true, of course. He might have met her when she was just a little girl, but that hardly lent itself to anything more.

He remembered seeing her for the first time, those fiery-green eyes glaring at him from within the coffin. He remembered seeing her clean for the first time as well, gliding into Fangtasia as though she belonged. Eric remembered every glint of defiance, aggravation, disinterest, and pride that crossed her face. He remembered her fear, and the fear he felt when he thought she'd die –more than once.

Eric's eyes slowly opened and even though he was presented with the sterile common room of his cell block, he could still see Maria –every roll of the eyes, every passionate moment, and every detail of her disappointment with him at the Moon Goddess.

"Hey!"

Eric's gaze drifted upward, but his body remained motionless. One of the guards had called down to him, clad in black with an angry weapon clutched to his chest.

"Get in a bed, vamper." He said hatefully. "You're bleedin' all over the fuckin' floor."

Eric said nothing and after a brief stare-down, the guard walked on. The Viking's gaze lingered on him for only a moment longer before it fell once again to the floor.

He'd find Pam and anyone else he deemed even remotely worth saving, kill everyone inside, burn the building to the ground, and then return to Shreveport. He'd retrieve Maria, and everything would go back to the way it'd been before the witches, before the AVL and before the governor.

Everything would go back to the way it was before Sookie returned, back to when everything was better –happier.

Eric rose. His long legs carried him to the chamber that had been assigned to him. He jerked open the door and slid inside. Maybe they would kill him in his sleep. Maybe not.

* * *

Maria was at the Stackhouse… house.

What an awkward phrase…

She was sat on the couch in the living room waiting for Sookie to return from whatever it was she'd gone to do. The blonde commanded her to remain at the house and Maria was both relieved, and angry that it worked. While she was glad she didn't have to follow the fairy everywhere, at the moment, she was stuck sitting in the house unable to move a single muscle beyond breathing.

That had been an interesting moment.

"_Just… stay here." Sookie said as she tugged her jacket into place. _

"_Seriously?"_

"_Yeah," She snapped back in the same annoyed voice. "I don't really feel like tryin' to explain to people why yer followin' me. So, just…" Her eyes danced around briefly. "Just sit on the couch there."_

_Because she had no choice, Maria did as she was told and took her seat on the couch. In the foyer, Sookie grabbed her purse. She looked back at Maria and something seemed to cross her mind in that moment._

"_And don't go through my stuff while I'm gone. And don't trash my house." She said before an even better thought came to her. "Matter of fact, don't even move, okay? Not a single muscle."_

_In an instant Maria's entire body went stiff and, to her horror, everything stopped. While her heart kept beating because she had no control over that, Maria genuinely stopped breathing. She consciously held her breath because she could, and Sookie had told her not to move a muscle._

_Panic coursed through Maria when she realized what had happened. She couldn't call for help, she couldn't speak at all. Maria was entirely still, like a statue._

_In her mind she screamed and cursed and repeated that she couldn't breathe. She cursed Sookie for telling her not to move a muscle and hated her even more for it._

It wasn't until Maria nearly passed out that Sookie poked her head back into the house and told her she could breathe. And with a rush of air and her choice to not die returned to her, Maria was left on the couch.

That was over an hour ago, and her patience was running thin.

But it didn't matter. What the hell was Maria going to do about it?

Perhaps another thirty minutes later, maybe more, Sookie returned with a man Maria knew was familiar, but she couldn't place. She wasn't allowed to move a muscle beyond breathing, that meant she had to rely on her periphery, and it told her very little. It wasn't until he spoke that she realized she'd met him in the basement of Fangtasia.

"Maria?" He said as he approached. She wished she could even glance in his direction, but she couldn't. That would have meant moving her eyes. "The fuck you's doin' here?"

He came into view, eying her with uncertainty, but he wasn't given the chance to linger.

"Don't worry about her." Sookie said when she swept in and grabbed him by the arm. "Ignore her."

"The fuck you doin' with Eric Northman's woman in your house, Sook?" He asked with a stern edge to his voice as he was guided toward the kitchen.

"She's not his woman." Sookie sounded a little offended, which Maria actually enjoyed.

"Maybe, maybe not, but I know for a damn fact she don't belong here."

"It's fine."

"The hell is it."

She heard Sookie grumbled incoherently under her breath before she charged into the living room.

"Go into the cubby." She told Maria. "You can leave the door cracked, but stay down there, okay? Don't make a sound."

Maria rose to her feet and shot Sookie a glare that caused the young woman to fidget. Good. That meant she'd put enough rage into it.

As she'd been commanded, yet again, Maria stepped into the cubby and descended the ladder, making sure the door was partially cracked as she did so she'd continue to be able to breathe.

* * *

Three days ago, Maria heard Sookie taken by Lafayette. Three days ago, Maria had been ordered to remain in the cubby. Three days ago was the last time Maria had food or water.

* * *

Eric fled Bill's mansion that night, wearing his sister on his body. Her blood had seeped through his prison blues –soaked through it more like- and had touched his skin. He could feel it hardening, crusting as it dried on him.

He was a flurry of emotion and all of them negative. Without something to steady him, without something to anchor the vampire while he was tossed around within the tempest, he would lose control. Eric would seek out his revenge, and faster than most.

And he knew who to run to. He knew who would help him stay even remotely calm. It wasn't Pam. No, Pam was good at a great many things, she excelled really, but kind and comforting weren't on that list. They were four letter words to Pamela Swynford de Beaufort and he loved her for it, but right now he needed someone who wouldn't judge him for the tears on his face. He needed someone who knew how to calm him.

Eric skidded to a stop on the partially dirt driveway. The house loomed in front of him, a stark white building with few adornments. He hadn't seen it in the weeks since Sookie had returned, not after his memories came back at least and he turned away from Maria. Not a lot had changed, but the jasmine Maria had planted and guided up the trellises she'd installed around her porch was in bloom.

He found their smell offensive. Maria liked it.

He searched the dark windows and saw not a single sign of life, but that didn't stop him from walking onto the porch. Eric reached forward to knock and nearly made contact with the door itself. There was no need to knock, however. The door was already opened.

The tip of his finger pressed gently against the worn wood and guided it open. The hinges squeaked, and the sound echoed in the house, as did the small clack of the door hitting the wall. Eric peered inside.

Nothing.

He took a step forward and was immediately barred entrance. He scowled, tried once more, and then remembered. Maria had rescinded her invitation after Moon Goddess.

The muscles in his jaw tightened as he bit down. Without an invitation, he couldn't pass through the door, no matter how hard he tried.

Even though he heard nothing inside, Eric walked around the exterior. Her porch was so long that it stretched from one end of the house to the other, and with the many windows, he could see inside. What he saw genuinely caused his heart to crack ever-so-slightly. Boxes. There were boxes everywhere, and packing tape, and packing paper, bubble wrap, and even more boxes that hadn't been unfolded and packed.

She was moving. She was leaving Shreveport, probably Louisiana, and most importantly, she was leaving him.

Eric backed away from the house. This was unacceptable. No matter what had happened between them, she didn't have the right to simply leave.

Another fresh wave of anger swept through him. Fucking Bill. The Fucking Governor. Fucking concentration camps and vampire testing. Fucking Hep-V.

It all had to go, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

Eric leapt into the air and immediately flew toward Bon Temp.

* * *

Sookie emerged from the shower, wrapped in the warmth of her robe, and went downstairs. The bottle of whiskey she had in the kitchen never looked so sweet.

The first shot burned a little, but the second less so. She knew that the more she drank, the better she would feel.

When did life become so fucking complicated? Her biggest worry used to be bills, keeping Jason in line, and making sure she got to work on time. Now she had Warlow pledging his undying love for her, King Billith demanding everything from her, a thrope that wanted to kill her, and a thousand other life threatening issues.

She never thought she'd long for the day when the gas bill was her biggest worry.

Sookie took her third shot and directed her gaze through the entryway of the kitchen and into the living room. _I forgot about Maria_ she thought to herself. It'd been three days since Lafayette had kidnapped her while he was possessed by her father, and all that time Maria had been tucked away in the cubby.

_I wonder if she finally died?_ She thought.

Sookie casually rose to her feet and moved through the house until she made it to the cubby door. It was still barely cracked. She opened it and went down the ladder.

Maria was lying on the bed where Eric once slept. _What's Eric's woman doin' here_? Sookie arched an annoyed, angry brow at the thrope. Lafayette was wrong. Maria wasn't Eric's woman. She was, or at least, she knew she could be. All she had to do was look up at the Viking, flash her blue eyes, and tell him everything he wanted to hear.

Maybe she still would? After all, it'd be kind of nice to see the look on Maria's face when Eric came back to Sookie's side. It was already a pleasant memory for her whenever Eric didn't have his memories. The way he treated Sookie in front of Maria made the blonde smile, especially after the bitch left her to die.

Sookie's head tilted marginally to the side as she looked over the woman on the bed. Maria was on her back, her eyes were closed, but it was clear she wasn't doing very well. Her skin was pale, sickly almost. Her cheeks were a little sunken, her hair not as shiny, and it actually looked like she'd lost a couple of pounds over three days. Maybe she had? Maybe thropes had super high metabolisms? She didn't know, but it wouldn't really surprise her. Either way, Sookie knew she needed to eat and that she was probably dangerously dehydrated.

Maria finally stirred at least a minute or two after Sookie arrived. The blonde was surprised it took her so long to realize she wasn't alone, especially if she stunk as bad as Maria said. Maybe that was just further proof that she was ill.

Maria's eyes opened and the green wasn't nearly as vibrant as before. Sookie stared back blankly. She could hear the thrope's angry thoughts, the things she wanted to do to the fairy, and a whole bunch more said in a language Sookie didn't know. It sounded like Russian. That made sense.

"You probably need food, huh?" She asked without a single note of caring. "And water? Probably the bathroom, too."

Sookie's mind filled with Maria's sarcastic reply. The blonde cocked a single brow again. She had the power in this situation. No matter how angry Maria was, no matter how viciously she wanted to rip Sookie apart, she couldn't. She couldn't lay a single finger on the fairy, and that brought a smile to Sookie's face.

She wanted to test it, or maybe just flex her power a bit.

"Go upstairs." She said. "You can have a piece of bread, one glass of water, and you get ten minutes in the bathroom. I suggest you take a shower."

And with that, Sookie crawled back up the ladder. She felt Maria behind her, but had no fear of what the thrope would do.

It was wrong to treat Maria like she was, she knew it, but Sookie didn't care. Finally, for once in her life, she felt strong. She felt like she had all the cards, and she intended to enjoy it as long as possible.

* * *

Time meant nothing. It passed without much notice from the young woman in the cubby. Maria was so tired. She drifted in and out of sleep more often than not because her body simply didn't have the energy to remain awake. It didn't much matter, either. What was she supposed to do? Sookie kept her locked away.

It might have been the size of the room, but Maria had traded one steel box for another. She missed Eric, and thought about him frequently now that she had the time.

He was a self-centered, egotistical prick, but he treated her better than most had in a long time. He was good to her, and even Maria was aware of how ridiculous that sounded given how they'd met.

And yet, even then, he wasn't that bad. To someone on the outside, sure, he would have seemed like an utter bastard, and he was, but honestly, what had he really done? He hadn't hurt her like others had. He hadn't starved her, or beaten her, or abused her in any way. He'd tried to frighten her, to gain her compliance through fear. Even when he had laid his hands on her, it was nothing she couldn't handle, nor was it even remotely close to his full strength. Maria knew the first moment he threw her through the air that he knew what she could withstand, and acted accordingly.

Then again, maybe she didn't see how he'd treated her as anything bad because she'd already met true evil. Nothing Northman could have done to her could have caused actual pain. At least… not physically.

The way he looked at Sookie hurt.

The way he clung to her side hurt.

The way he was willing to die for her hurt.

If the woman had been worth even an iota of that level of devotion, Maria knew it would be different. If Eric had been like that with Pam, for example, that would be one thing. But why the vapid, self-indulgent, whiny, manipulative fairy whore? Why did it have to be her?

The doors to the cubby opened and without warning, Maria was no longer alone. The smell of fairy was strong, so much stronger than it had been with Sookie, and it was coming closer. Maria leapt to her feet and backed away, her hand clamped firmly over her nose to keep it from burning. A second later, a young girl came into view. When she turned, she was stunned to see she wasn't alone.

"Oh, hi!" She chimed in an innocent voice.

Maria didn't know her, but there was no denying she was fay.

"Um, I'm Adilyn," She stepped forward with her hand extended toward Maria.

Maria stepped back and pressed herself further into the corner. This girl was stronger than Sookie, purer, and that was a bad thing.

"Fairy," Her voice was muffled through her hand.

Adilyn flinched and stepped back. "Yeah, how'd you know?" And then fear struck her and she recoiled, too. "Are you a vampire?"

"No," Maria dropped her hand and struggled to breathe through her mouth. She was beginning to shake. "Christ, you stink."

Adilyn flinched again, but this time her brows furrowed and she looked hurt. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Maria felt a surprising twinge of guilt at what she'd said. She'd hurt Adilyn's feelings and it shouldn't have mattered to her, but it did –at least in some small way. Still, it wasn't enough to make her relax.

"Sorry," Maria mumbled. She didn't entirely sound sympathetic. "It's just that my kind and fairies _really_ don't get along."

Adilyn tried to nod strongly, but her shoulders slumped. Maria had the feeling that she was attempting to keep an adult face.

There was sudden ruckus upstairs, a fight of some kind that was going on. Maria felt phantom hackles rise. Her feet guided her to the entrance and Adilyn backed away. She thanked the fairy child internally for giving her a wide berth.

"What's happening up there?" Maria asked.

"Oh, um, that Warlow guy is here to take Sookie, or something." She replied. There was a small tremble in her voice. She was afraid and the scent of it was almost as sour as her fairy blood.

Maria had been told to keep out of sight, but her primary order had always been to protect Sookie from Warlow. So, she would. Quietly.

Before the fairy girl could say a word, Maria was up the ladder and in the house. She ducked into the shadows and away from the main fight that was happening in the foyer. Safely hidden behind the corner of a door, she heard the struggle and then everything went silent. Another rustle… the sound of a dragging body… a door opening… and someone falling down a shaft.

Maria looked around the corner and saw a man who reeked of vampire and fay slamming the door to the hutch closed. There was a flash of light and he turned to walk away.

Light on her feet, she followed him. She attempted to remove her jewelry out of habit until she realized that she'd left it at her house. She was a bit grateful it never made it to the Stackhouse place with her. Still, she did remove her gloves. They were the only pair she had.

The stranger stalked toward the stairs and no sooner than he had planted his foot on the bottom step did Maria act. She grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingernails into them until she felt bone, and then pulled. Warlow cried out in pain and before he could gather his bearings, Maria threw him through the front door. She followed.

The vampire hit the ground and rolled, but rebounded to his feet quickly. Maria was slower to approach. His fangs were bared as he hissed. She opened her mouth and let loose a vicious roar.

"Get out of my way." He told her threateningly.

"Trust me, I'd be more than happy to let you take her, but the bitch branded me." She said as she slowly descended the front steps. "I'm her pet now, and she told me to protect her. I have no choice."

He sneered. "Little Sookie Stackhouse found herself a thrope, did she? Hm. Well, this'll be fun."

Warlow threw himself at her, and Maria reacted.

The fight that broke out between the two was shades beyond violent. Warlow was desperate to get inside the house, and Maria had no choice but to meet that desperation just to keep him out.

He swung and slashed at her. She wove and ducked away. Her claws tore through his skin. Balls of energy sailed by her, missing her by centimeters at best. Blood filled the air, it caked beneath Maria's fingernails, and it stained his clothing, but still they fought.

"Enough!" He bellowed.

Warlow swung and managed to finally connect with her face. Maria was taken to the ground, hard. Her world spun and she knew the bones in her face were fractured. She was dazed.

"Goddamn animals." He growled.

Maria listened as his footsteps took him further and further from her. She heard the bottom step creak. There was a gunshot. A human yelled. Maria had to move.

Her dwindling focus landed on her hands. Covered in blood, vampire blood, she knew she had no choice. Maria sucked bits of Warlow from her digits. The side effects kicked in immediately.

Her eyes found focus on the vampire fay in an instant. Her body moved on its own, guided by instinct and rage. Somehow, she was on her feet. The distance between them was nothing. There was a flash of something –people, perhaps- and her teeth piercing into flesh. He screamed. She jerked her head and took him to the ground. His blood glided down her throat giving her even more strength.

Hands grabbed her shoulders. They gathered lumps of fur and skin and pulled. Maria was thrown through the air, but she landed on all fours. The vampire was bleeding heavily, favoring his side. Maria spat out the chunks of flesh she'd torn from his shoulder. Blue light gathered in his hands again.

Maria dug into the ground and threw herself at him. Her shoulder slammed into Warlow's chest. She felt bones shatter and crack from the force, heard his head hit the ground with a sickening thwack. Before he could rise again, her teeth found his throat.

It fit easily in her wide maw, engulfed with little effort. She clamped down hard. More blood. He screamed, but it was gurgled, and choked.

Maria bit and bit, chewed and chewed, until he burst. Suddenly, there was no vampire beneath her, only a patch of luminescent blood staining the dirt driveway.

She was breathing heavily as she backed away from the mass. She felt every nerve in her body vibrate, every cell come to life for the first time in days. Not even Eric's blood had this effect.

Maria threw her head back and let out a loud, triumphant roar that echoed through the trees, and over the hills. Half of Bon Temp probably heard her.

She shook and felt some of the blood still saturating the fur around her mouth whip up and spread across her face. Gradually, Maria noticed movement in the house. She looked up and saw a handful of people, most of whom she didn't recognize, standing just within the door or on the front porch. Maria made her way toward the house.

The two men, one she recognized as Jason, aimed their guns at her. They intended to shoot, she could tell. She felt her body shrink and her line of sight rise as she finished the journey on two feet, no longer on four legs. Jason instantly dropped his weapon.

"Holy shit… I know you." He said, but her focus was on Sookie only.

"Release me." She said as she drew even nearer.

"No," Sookie replied sternly. Her voice shook a little, but Maria couldn't tell if it was her or the situation that caused it.

"Release me." She growled.

"No," Sookie repeated.

Maria moved faster than the others could comprehend and soon had Sookie pinned to the house just to the right of the door. She was sure she didn't touch the fairy's skin with her bare hands. She never wanted to know the blonde that well.

"I said release me, now. I killed your Warlow, now given me back my life."

"No," Sookie said again.

"Hey! Let my fuckin' sister go, alright!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Maria could see Jason pointing his gun at her.

"Not until she releases me." Maria replied. "This bitch enslaved me."

She heard a small chorus of _what_, but it was Jason's response that surprised her the most.

"You branded her with your Light, Sook?"

Maria turned her attention on him and her glared deepened. It must have been frightening because he jumped. Her eye drifted back to Sookie.

"Re-"

"Stop talking." Sookie said with a level of cold calm. Maria complied. "Go clean yourself up, then get back in the cubby."

And as she had so many times before, Maria did as she was told.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN:** Sorry it's been so long, guys. Time is annoyingly persistent. Anyway, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter 33**

_Day 26_

Maria had been at the Stackhouse place for little more than three weeks. She couldn't stand it. The smell of fairy was absolutely everywhere. It was engrained in the wood floors, had seeped into the drywall, and saturated every single fabric. Maria swam in the smell and it wasn't one she could get used to.

Most smells, as anyone could attest, faded the longer a person was exposed to it. No matter how strong it was, the nose would grow accustomed. It might not disappear completely, but it would become manageable.

That wasn't the case with Maria and Sookie.

Whether it was because of the innate fear her species had of fairies, or the fact that she hated Sookie, Maria couldn't say. All she knew was the smell never went away. It never ebbed. It _always_ hurt her nose.

* * *

_Day 44_

Maria may or may not have finally stepped over the line.

It was a simple mistake. Sometimes, Maria didn't know her own strength. Was it her fault that she accidently snapped the broom in half, or the mop, or their replacements all in the same day?

Probably.

Sookie retaliated, though. Apparently, Maria was no longer allowed to use mops or brooms to clean the fairy's house. At least, not until she learned how to use them 'properly'.

Fuck Sookie. Maria wasn't her goddamn maid. She'd happily snap a thousand brooms and mops just because.

Sookie wouldn't let her near the vacuum, though.

* * *

_Day 93_

Down in the hold, Maria laid in bed staring at the metal ceiling above her. Sookie had people over, and Maria was told to stay in the wardrobe and not to make a sound. So, that was what she was doing –whether she liked it or not.

Maria was forced down into the cubby more and more when Sookie began dating the werewolf. It was hard for her to keep track of time now, but glimpses at the calendar helped her figure it out.

It'd been three months.

* * *

_Day…?_

Sookie was in one of her moods. Maria had been down in the cubby for some time. She didn't really know how long. She had a clock, so she could at least tell the time, but that served more Sookie's purposes than Maria's. Now that the werewolf was spending more and more nights there, Maria was allowed upstairs less and less. In fact, she hadn't been upstairs in a while. Days she knew, but she didn't know how many.

She was only allowed to leave the cubby at noon and midnight to use the bathroom if, and only if, the house was empty. If it wasn't, she had to wait another twelve hours.

The longer Maria stayed with Sookie, the more hardened the fairy became to having control. Honestly, it looked like she liked it. She certainly acted like she did. There was no more hesitation when she told Maria to do something, just a sharp bark of an order that was immediately carried out.

Bitch.

* * *

_Four Months Later_

Maria had lived with Sookie for little over four months. Perhaps 'lived with' was the wrong phrase. With the main threat of vampires relegated to the night, there was no point in Sookie letting her out, so she didn't.

Although, that wasn't entirely true. Maria was allowed out during the day to clean, do yard work, and whatever menial chores Sookie needed done, but didn't want to do herself. It was nice to write a list and know that everything on it would be done by the time she got home. There was no question, it would be done. Maria didn't have a choice.

Sookie knew at some point she was supposed to feel guilty with what she was doing, that she should have been absolutely horrified with the concept of keeping Maria, but she wasn't. The longer the thrope was bound to her, the more right it felt. Sookie couldn't really put into words what it was like, but having Maria felt more natural than anything –as natural as having two legs, ten fingers, and ten toes.

There was no way she was going to give the thrope up.

* * *

_Two After That_

Alcide and Sookie had been dating steadily and officially for about a month. It turned Maria's stomach for a number of reasons, the main being that he was just another guy to fall into her web. She almost pitied the wolf.

Months had passed since Sookie branded her, and Maria knew that the little fairy bitch would never let her go. She could tell by the way Sookie treated her. In the beginning, she might have been a little mean, but there were times she still attempted to win Maria over. It never would have worked, but she still tried.

Now? Months later? Sookie didn't even bother pretending. There were no more pretenses.

Maria was in the kitchen scrubbing the floor with a dish sponge. Sookie had initially told her to do it with a toothbrush and then apparently decided that it would take too long, so she upgraded Maria to a three-inch by four-inch sponge. And all because Maria told her to fuck off.

She'd made it roughly half-way through the process of hand-scouring the old tile when there was a knock on the door. Maria sat up and felt every vertebrae in her back pop when she had. Before she had the chance to stand, however, the visitor stepped inside.

"Sook, you-"

Alcide rounded the corner and saw Maria on her knees in the kitchen. His brows tugged together. She could tell he was trying to place her, but it took a minute. This was the first time he'd seen her in Sookie's house.

"Hey," He finally said as he approached. Thankfully, he saw what she was doing and paused at the entrance to the kitchen. "Maria, right?"

"Yeah," She nodded.

"What are you doin' here?"

She arched a brow. Clearly, he saw what she was doing.

"I mean, do you live here or somethin'?"

Maria's answer was automatic and reflexive. She parroted that answer Sookie told her to give when someone asked her that question.

"No. I'm just doing Sookie a favor."

"Oh," He slid his hands into his pockets. "Last time I saw ya, it didn't seem like you two got along all that well."

"We don't." Maria replied. Her mind raced with a way to tell him the truth, but Sookie forbade her from telling anyone she was a slave. Still, she could dance around it. "I don't have a choice."

His eyes narrowed. "Favors generally mean ya gotta choice."

"It's not a favor. That's what I was commanded to say whenever someone asked why I was in her house."

His confusion deepened. "What's that mean?"

Maria rose to her feet and met his eye. "Your little girlfriend owns me." He flinched. "What, she never told you that she branded me with her Light, that I'm forced to do whatever she says, and that I have no free will of my own?"

She noticed his jaw tense slightly and the muscles of his shoulders follow suit. "Bullshit."

Maria glared at him. "You're kidding, right?" He didn't reply, but she could tell he didn't believe her. "Christ, how blind are the people in this fucking town?" She shook her head. "Then again, I'm not really surprised someone like you don't want to see the truth."

He bristled. "The fuck does that mean?"

Maria was filled with rage, a rage that she couldn't dump on Sookie, but Alcide was there now. He was a free target to unleash at least some of it.

"It means you're a fucking moron." She told him bluntly. "And it doesn't surprise me that you can't see her as anything but some sweet little girl. But hey, correct me if I'm wrong, Sookie killed your last girlfriend, right?" Alcide flinched. "Probably the love of your life, too, given how you wolves are. You know she died right there?" Maria pointed at the spot on the kitchen floor currently hidden beneath a light layer of bubbles. She knew because she'd gleaned it from Pam months ago, and Pam had seen the body. Alcide's eyes drifted. "So, not only are you fucking the woman who killed your ex, but you're living in the house she died in, too." His gazed met hers again. Maria couldn't help herself and began to clap sarcastically. "Bravo, man. Bravo. Left your pack to shack up with the girl who killed the love of your life in the same house it went down in. Yeah, I don't expect someone that goddamn blind to see anything."

Alcide's eyes flashed with yellow. She saw his wolf struggle and fight, but without a word, he left. She grinned to herself. For whatever reason, Maria was a little proud of that. She didn't have time to enjoy it, however. While Alcide left through the front door, Sookie emerged through the back seconds later. It happened so fast that Maria knew she must have heard the whole thing and the anger written across the blonde's face was only further proof.

Sookie kept her gaze on Maria as she slinked into the kitchen. She slid her purse off her shoulder and dropped it and the keys onto the table. Maria could practically smell how furious Sookie was. She just didn't care.

Sookie finally looked around and spotted something.

"Pick up that knife." She said, pointing to a butcher's knife that was resting on the dish rack. Maria had no choice but to comply. She picked it up. "Put the point to your chest, right here." Sookie pointed to a spot just above her heart. Maria complied. "Push, slowly."

Maria, again, complied.

She fought the urge, fought against the command, but there was no point. Her arms didn't listen.

The tip of the blade pierced her skin and began to gradually glide deeper. It hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad, but Maria wasn't going to show it. The most she'd give Sookie was a tight jaw and heavy breathing.

"Keep goin' till I say stop." Sookie told her calmly.

So she did.

Sookie, still blank and emotionless, approached the thrope. Maria's arms kept pushing the blade deeper and deeper into her body. When it hit her sternum, she wished to hell it would have stopped, but it didn't. It couldn't. She wasn't allowed.

With a hefty shove, the blade broke through the bone. Maria cried out then. She couldn't keep the sound hidden behind closed lips. As the knife went deeper still, Maria could actually feel it scrape along her sternum. She forced herself to meet Sookie's eye, to look at the emotionless fairy.

"From now on, I don't wanna hear you speak." Sookie said. "And every time Alcide or anyone else is over here, I want you out of sight. You understand me? Nod if you do." Maria nodded. Still the blade went deeper. "Good. I know you hate me. I don't like you either, but I'm the one in charge. Don't forget that."

Her gaze dropped and Maria knew she was surveying the depth of the knife. Sookie took in a slow, deep breath before finally telling Maria she could pull it out. The thrope complied instantly and relaxed when it was gone.

Before she left, Sookie told her to clean up the mess, then she disappeared through the door. Maria assumed she was on her way to talk to Alcide, to try and smooth everything over. Maria hoped it didn't work, but it probably would.

If revealing that she was Sookie's slave in front of a group of people hadn't done a goddamn thing, then this probably hadn't either.

* * *

Maria was down in her dungeon as she always was. A few nights ago she heard Sookie and Alcide arguing about something that happened at their little get together. Apparently Tara was dead. Maria didn't care. She didn't even know the woman, so why would she?

Alcide didn't listen to Maria, but as she said before, she hadn't expected someone that fucking blind to see how twisted his relationship with Sookie was. Did she actually have a magical vagina? It seemed that way.

He'd moved in some time ago. Before, he slept over nearly every night and had brought a number of his things to her house, but whatever Sookie said to him worked, because he moved in not long after. Ever since, she was only allowed to leave her hole whenever Sookie and Alcide were gone. She couldn't even come out at night anymore because the werewolf would hear her.

Fucking bitch.

* * *

_Season 7 Episode 4_

On a plane heading toward Louisiana, Pam and Eric shared a smile.

"Pamela," Eric grinned. "Such a bitch."

Her smile broadened just a bit. "But you still love me."

His began to falter. "Always," He said on a breath. And he meant it. He would always love Pam.

Another tense silence fell between them, one weighted with reality. Both of them had spent their entire time together rising above such trivial things. They chose to live beyond reality, above everything and everyone. From the clouds, nothing could touch them.

Until now.

"Why do we have to go back to Shreveport, Eric?" Pam's voice was soft and filled with the need to understand. He heard it.

"For Willa." He repeated, though without the anger from before.

Pam cocked a single brow and stared at him skeptically. "And Sookie?"

He took a breath and let it out slowly. Eric didn't want to fight. He didn't have the energy for it. "And Sookie." He repeated. There was no need to lie.

Pam nodded softly as though she was accepting his answer, but he knew the truth. A moment later, she spoke again.

"And Maria?"

Eric felt a small twinge, one he'd felt before when thinking about the young woman. He hadn't seen her in a long, long while –not since Moon Goddess.

"Almost a year," He muttered. The words barely left his lips as little more than a breath, but the weight of them was substantial. It hit him hard and caused his face to twist into a slight scowl. "It's been almost a year."

Pam's brows tugged together. "Since when?"

"Since Moon Goddess." He told her.

He watched Pam's gaze drop to the floor while she thought it over, too. A second later, he saw that she'd reached the same conclusion. It was true. He'd spoken to her once in that time, but he hadn't seen her since he told her that their deal was done. Shortly after, he spent a couple of months underground with the Authority. After that, he was locked in the governor's hideaway for another month, month and a half. After that, six months traveling the world.

Time was a little tricky and he couldn't be entirely certain how long he'd been with the governor, but at the very minimum, Eric could safely say he hadn't seen Maria in roughly nine months. That was a long time.

It all went by so fast. It felt like a flash. So many things had been thrown at him that he'd only looked to the next night. There was no looking beyond that, not forward or into the past. He had to deal with the current problem, and as a result, time moved by faster than he realized.

How could he have gone nine months without seeing Maria? It felt wrong to think. He hadn't even gone nine hours without seeing her when she was his. Fine, perhaps that was an exaggeration because sleep was a necessity, but the point remained.

Why did it feel like he let her down?

"Eric,"

Pam's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at her and saw that she was staring back expectantly. He gave her a small twitch of a smile that faded just as quickly.

"And Maria." He said, finally answering her question. "Have you seen her?"

Pam shook her head. "I left to look for you the same day we escaped."

"Hm," he mumbled.

"I'm sure she's still at her place."

Pam's tone made it sound like she was trying to placate him or give him hope. It caused him to smirk a little. She didn't want him to try and search for yet another person when they had more important business to tend to. He wanted to tell her he wouldn't, but he couldn't make the promise, so he didn't bother lying.

Another silence filled the cabin. Even though he wasn't looking directly at her, Eric could see Pam watching him. She was probably waiting to speak, or looking for some kind of sign to cross his face. He'd like to think she was wasting her time.

"Do you love her?"

The question seemed random, as though conjured out of thin air and it caused him to eye her skeptically.

"What?" He was sure to lace the question with a slightly sarcastic chuckle. He doubted it fooled his Progeny.

"Sookie,"

Eric hadn't expected that to be the name.

"Do you love her?"

Eric relaxed marginally and let himself sink deeper into his chair. "I care about her, yes."

"We're passed coy, Eric."

His gaze focused on her. "Yes," He said plainly. "I do."

She wasn't overly enthused by the prospect, which he expected.

"What about Maria, hm?"

There it was, that little stab in his chest again. He didn't like it because he couldn't identify it immediately. That annoyed him.

"I don't know." Blatant lie. He tasted it.

"Hm, right." Pam practically cooed the word. He could tell she wasn't fooled, either. "Well, I can tell you who I'd pick if I were you."

Eric grinned wickedly as thoughts of Pam with both Sookie and Maria entered his mind. It felt good knowing the lecherous part of him hadn't been eaten by the virus.

"Oh, Miss de Beaufort," He mused. "Do tell."

"You know me," Her voice was deliciously teasing. "Always a fan of pussy."

Eric laughed and Pam did, too. He couldn't help it. Pam always knew how to make him feel better.

"Besides," She continued. "There's something to be said for a woman who goes through Hell just to save the Devil."

Eric let himself muse about her comment on the outside, but it forced him to think about all of the times Maria had turned around and saved his life. It may have only been twice, but each time mattered quite a bit. With the Fellowship, there had been a chance he could have been freed or escaped. It would have been difficult given he was silvered and there were gun toting Jesus-freaks everywhere, but still possible.

With Rasputin, on the other hand, there had been no chance. Whatever the sorcerer had thrown on Eric, whatever mixture of powders they were, they took the Viking to his knees within seconds. In less than a minute, everything the powder touched had been gnawed and chewed and melted. But Maria had saved him, in spite of everything, and when she woke up that night, they 'celebrated'.

They celebrated nightly for months, in fact. He'd been happy then because there was no chaos. He had Fangtasia. He had Pam and Maria. He had the devotion of the people who visited his establishment. He had everything he could want.

And then Sookie returned.

Eric's internal smile faded at the thought of the blonde. How could one person, so small and seemingly sweet, cause so many life-altering problems? Eric wouldn't go so far as to say Sookie was cursed, however. No, he'd known people in his life who really and truly were. What Sookie Stackhouse was, was a curse to those around her. Nothing fell back on her that wouldn't wash away shortly afterward, but the people in her immediate vicinity tended to suffer greatly before they died. And nine out of ten of them did die.

How the hell had her brother managed to live as long as he had?

* * *

Sookie had spent the day dealing with everyone. She talked to Arlene's kids, talked to Holly about where the others were hiding, talked to Bill –basically talked to fucking everyone.

And she didn't want to. She didn't give a shit about any of it, if she were being honest. She just didn't have it in her to walk around with her big doe-eyes, that look on her face that told the world she needed protecting, or that sweet exterior she generally kept.

At one point they were real. Back before she knew vampires existed, she was that Polly-Anna girl, that sweet Southern Belle that made the guys swoon. After? She'd been through too much. Polly-Anna died a few years back, and Sookie knew that the woman left in her wake was the real Sookie Stackhouse. That was how it felt, at least. Sookie didn't feel like she had to hide anymore.

She'd survived too much death and too much pain to care what other people thought about her.

After she berated Jess for being so weak, she met Bill in the den and fed him. She probably should have been more compassionate when she spoke to the still-traumatized redhead, but she wasn't. She meant what she said.

_Those dead fairy girls are just the tip of the fuckin' iceberg. Truth is, I don't give a shit why you won't eat. So what if they're dead? Alcide's dead. Tara's dead. Almost everyone I've ever known or cared about is dead._

_So I'm sorry, but I don't give a fuck about you or your problems. Three of my friends are being held captive in Fangtasia right now, and whether you want to admit it or not, I've been good to you. So are you going to help me or not?_

She'd yelled at Jessica, and was downright cruel, but she didn't care. It was a freeing feeling.

After she spoke to Bill, Sookie made her way across the cemetery to her house. She walked through the floor plan and to the cubby. Sookie yanked open the door.

"Get up here." She snapped. Sookie stepped back and a moment later Maria emerged from within the cupboard. "You're comin' with us to Fangtasia. We're gonna kill the H-vamps that are hangin' out there, and you're comin' with me. You got that?"

Maria didn't reply, and Sookie didn't really expect her to. Through the last few months, she knew how to handle the thrope.

"Come on,"

Sookie made her way back to Bill's with Maria in tow.


	34. Chapter 34

**AN:** Hey guys! Here's another chapter. FYI, it won't be long until Sookie gets her comeuppance. I hope you like it and enjoy!

**Chapter 34**

Eric and Pam stood outside the dark and empty house. Eric's brows furrowed. Nothing had changed. It looked exactly the same.

"The hell are we doin' here again?" Pam asked.

Eric didn't reply at first. He approached the house with Pam close behind. The front door was still slightly ajar.

"Go inside." He told her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she wanted to protest, but Pam said nothing. Instead, she scowled, and walked through the door without a problem. Eric assumed Maria never rescinded the blonde's invitation. He'd been right.

Eric heard Pam's footsteps as she walked through the floor plan, heard her mumble her agitation when she found something disgusting, and then watched as she reappeared down the hall directly in front of him. Pam was busy looking around, but his gaze was on the floor. Partially hidden beneath a layer of dead leaves and dust was a white, folded slip of paper. It was a note and he knew the contents. He'd been the one who left it before he fled the country.

"No one's been here in months." Pam said. She stood in the foyer with her hands on her hips as she looked at him. Her boot was directly on top of the note. She hadn't seen it. "There's movin' boxes everywhere, but everything's covered in dust. It looks like she left in a hurry."

"Why bother packing if you're just going to leave everything behind anyway?" He asked rhetorically.

"Better question," Pam exited the house and closed the door tightly behind her. "Why leave food in the fridge to rot into a mass of shit if you're movin'?"

Eric didn't like the feeling in his gut. Maria didn't seem the type to leave things undone. He'd been in her head, been with her for nearly two years. He knew that much.

If she was gone now, it wasn't because she chose to be. Someone had taken her months ago, back before he found her house empty the first time, and before he left the note. Eric felt his eyes prickle with possible tears. Maria was gone and any trail there might have been disappeared who knows how long ago. He couldn't look for her because he was running out of time, running out of life.

The very real thought that he'd never see her again hit him harder than he thought it would.

"Come on," He forced himself to speak, pushing past the lump in his throat. "Let's go see Bill."

Without a reply, Pam followed him into the air.

* * *

In Bill's house, the plan was made, though Maria hardly paid the slightest bit of attention to it. She didn't care. She hoped everyone in the room was killed. Hell, she hoped Sookie died the slowest. Everyone under that roof annoyed her, even the people she didn't know. Maria had grown to loathe humans, vampires, and fucking fairies most of all. Being around anyone at all was like red-hot pokers being dragged down her skin.

Christ, she missed Pam and Eric. She liked the two of them. They were assholes, but they were real. Maybe that was why she hated the people in the room with her the most. The ones she knew kept a mask on. They acted how they thought they were supposed to, or as though their actions were scripted. Fucking humans. Fucking vampires. Fucking faries.

Maria just wanted to go home.

A knock on the door soon diverted attention. Bill rose to answer it. Maria could hear Eric's voice and her stomach dropped. She could hear his voice and apparently so could Sookie. The blonde whipped around and stared at her.

"Don't you say a fuckin' word to Eric, you hear me?" She practically hissed. "And don't tell Pam anythin' either."

Maria stayed quiet like she'd been commanded to. Sookie rose and went to the door. Eric embraced her the moment he saw her. From her stance in the parlor, she saw the way he held her, the way his eyes drifted shut and he cradled her close.

It hurt her to see, tugged at something deep inside her that had been dormant –if not dead- for quite some time.

When they drew back, Eric held her face tenderly and smiled down at Sookie. His eyes never left hers, not even when Bill suggested they go into his office to speak. Eric never even knew Maria was there.

Not a second after Bill closed the double doors did he tell the others to begin to load the cars. Maria didn't bother helping, but she rose to her feet and approached the blonde with the ever-present look of agitation. A look that, funnily enough, actually vanished when she spotted Maria.

Pam smirked her little smirk as she strolled into the manor. Maria had to admit, she missed seeing it. There was a level of confidence behind the grin, of assuredness that humans simply couldn't possess, but something told Maria that Pam had it long before she was turned.

"Well, well, well," She cooed as her blue-eyes-tinged-violet raked over Maria. "Funny seeing you here. Figured you'd be long gone by now."

Maria glanced briefly to the doors which shielded her from Sookie. She wasn't allowed to speak where the fairy could hear her, so she kept her volume low.

"It didn't quite go according to plan." Maria replied. Hearing her own voice leave her lips sounded odd, but Maria couldn't help but smile too, until she noticed Pam looked a little pale. Her smile faded. "When was the last time you fed?"

"I topped off on the plane here. I'm fine." She said smoothly.

"Come on, Pam. You know you want to." The teasing in her voice was undeniable.

Pam's lips twisted again and she sauntered forward with her hands on her hips. She cocked a perfectly sculpted brow and looked over Maria appraisingly.

"You offerin', your majesty?" She asked sarcastically.

Maria presented Pam with her wrist and she could see the hunger flicker in the blonde's eyes.

"Remind me again," Pam said as she continued her approach. "Have I ever tasted you before?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Hmmm," Pam cooed. She took Maria's arm into her hands and held tight. "Looks like there's a first time for everythin'."

Maria smiled and shook her head to herself. With nothing left to say, Pam dropped fang and proceeded to bite into Maria's arm. As usual, Maria felt the stab and the slight pain radiate from the bite marks, but she said nothing about it.

Pam fed for a little while, taking her fill which Maria expected her to do. When her color (or as much color as a vampire could have) returned, Pam let her go. She kept her sultry gaze on Maria, pricked her fingertip, and pressed the droplet of blood against the wounds she'd created. They'd have healed within a few minutes anyway, but Maria nodded her appreciation.

"Not bad," Pam smiled. "I can see why Eric's so taken with you."

Maria's smile faded and her gaze darted briefly to the door of Bill's office. The words bubbled within her, but they couldn't make it to the surface. Sookie had told her she couldn't tell Eric or Pam the truth.

She never said Maria couldn't show them.

"_I have to show you something important."_ Maria said in Swedish. She didn't know if Pam could speak Russian.

Pam cocked a brow, intrigued by the dialect shift. "What's that?" She asked in English.

Instead of replying, and knowing she didn't have long, Maria yanked off her glove, took Pam's bare hand in hers and concentrated. She didn't have to worry about seeing anything from the blonde's life. That happened months ago with Eric and the witches. This time, Maria could show Pam everything.

She concentrated hard, harder than she ever had before, and did her best to block out all of the useless shit before Sookie and Eric left the office. She could hear them speaking and somehow knew the conversation was coming to an end. She had to hurry.

Seconds felt like minutes as she shoved her knowledge into Pam's mind without the vampire's permission. It must have been a flood, but a flood that Maria had hoped she relegated to the last six months or so.

When the last memory left her, Maria let go. Pam gasped for an unneeded breath and took a long step back. She stared at her hand and then at Maria, her eyes wide.

"The fuck did you just do?" Pam asked.

"Showed you what I can't say."

"The fuck does that mean?"

Maria wanted to say, she wanted to tell Pam exactly what it meant, but she couldn't. It wasn't even like she was being deliberately coy or mysterious. The words genuinely wouldn't leave her mouth. Her tongue wouldn't fucking move to form them.

The best she could do was tap the side of her head. "Just remember. See what I showed you."

"Maria," Bill's voice drew her eye away from the blonde. "Come on. Time to get ready."

She nodded. Maria glanced once more to Pam who hadn't removed the skeptical look from her face. In fact, she was looking at Maria like the brunette had gone insane over the last few months. Maybe she had.

Alongside the others, Maria began to gather up their stakes and silver to fight the vampires in Fangtasia.

* * *

Pam's mind was fuzzy, but how could it be anything else. She couldn't explain what it felt like to have information forcefully shoved into your brain. It felt like a violation. On some level, Pam wondered if it was like that for humans when vampires glamoured them.

Of course not. Humans were too stupid, and the glamour generally didn't leave a trace.

Pam stood off to the side while the others moved in and out of the house with their supplies and sifted through what Maria had shown her. It must have been the same thing she did to Eric after Antonia cursed him.

"_You have to do everything I say now."_ Sookie's voice sort of echoed through the montage of memories.

Pam saw flashes of things, of Sookie ordering Maria to do things and Maria having no choice but to do them. Pam felt the thrope's desperation, and her helplessness. She could tell that Maria genuinely had no free will. It'd been stripped from her the second Sookie hit her with that blue ball of light.

And it wasn't even that Maria was simply being told to do things, either, not like when Eric told her to do them. Whatever Sookie had done robbed Maria of everything. Her body reacted automatically. And the worst part was, by far, that she was completely conscious of the fact that her body was no longer under her control. Pam couldn't imagine how that felt.

No. She could. She knew _exactly_ how that felt now. Because of Maria, Pam knew how it felt to be that helpless, to be fully and completely under someone else's control, an dit made her stomach curl.

Christ. Even when a vampire glamoured someone it put them in a daze. They didn't know their free will was being taken. Maria did. She was entirely aware.

Maria was forced to stay in a steel cubbyhole for days on end. She'd been starved and left without water. She'd been forced to clean every inch of Sookie's house, to cook her meals, and tend to her whenever her boyfriend wasn't there. And when Alcide was in the house, Maria was locked in the cellar like some kind of fucking animal.

But one thing was by far the worst. Pam wouldn't have believed it if someone had told her, and honestly, if it'd happened to anyone else Pam would have been proud. As it was, she was furious.

That fucking butcher knife…

The instance right when she and Eric walked into the manor, though, that kept replaying over and over.

"_Don't you say a fucking word to Eric, you hear me?" _Sookie said_. "And don't tell Pam a thing, either."_

And seconds later, Sookie and Eric disappeared into Bill's office leaving Maria and Pam in the foyer.

She was furious on Maria's behalf. Not even Eric tortured people this way.

The congregation made their way outside and Pam felt obliged to follow. She wasn't entirely certain why, only that she did. She leaned against a pillar with her arms crossed over her chest, watching them as they worked. Her gaze lingered on Maria for a while.

So weak. So helpless. It was disgusting and turned Pam's stomach.

Without warning, Willa appeared in front of Pam.

"Where is he?" She growled.

"Inside with Sookie." Pam replied in a casual tone.

Willa was gone just as fast. Not long after, both Eric and Sookie emerged from the mansion and despite her disinterest with what was happening around her, Eric declared that he and Pam just _had_ to get involved.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed as he held the door open for her. "She's like a fungus that just won't fuckin' die."

Eric said nothing about her cold outburst toward Sookie because it wasn't entirely uncommon, but now Pam had even more reason to hate the blonde.

As they set off down the road, Pam kept her eyes on the back of Sookie's head. She could tell the little waitress was aware because she'd shift and squirm and dare glances back, but she never said a word. Maria wasn't in the car. She was riding behind them. Pam assumed Sookie had told her to get into whichever vehicle Eric wasn't.

They were half-way to Shreveport before Eric finally spoke to her.

"_We'll find Sarah Newlan later."_ Eric said in Swedish. _"I promise. There's no reason to sulk."_

"_I'm not sulking."_ She replied. "_I'm fuckin' pissed."_ He grinned a little, amused by her rage. It wasn't entirely uncommon. _"Have you seen Maria yet?"_

His smile began to dwindle. She saw him look at her so she met his gaze. Eric looked surprised.

"_She's here?"_

Pam nodded and motioned to the car behind them. Eric turned to look through the back window, but between the tinting and numerous people between them, she doubted he could even catch a glimpse.

"_No,"_ he said as he readjusted himself and got comfortable again. _"But I'm sure I will."_

"_Don't count on it."_ Pam said with a scoff. "_Your girlfriend up there made it impossible." _Eric's brows creased as he eyed her curiously. _"She's been the fairy's slave for the last six months. Ever since you disappeared."_

"_How's that even possible? I'm sure she's exagger-"_

Pam abruptly cut him off. "_She showed me with those freaky powers of hers."_

Eric said nothing for a moment before he scoffed, shook his head, and turned his attention forward once more. He didn't believe her. Pam didn't know what she expected, but apparently that was it because she wasn't surprised.

_Sookie Stackhouse can do no __fucking__ wrong,_ she thought angrily to herself.

* * *

Fangtasia had been turned into a bloodbath, a beautifully violent and chaotic bloodbath.

He was weak. The virus was taking its toll, dragging him down no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. It curled his back and forced the once proud vampire to slouch and slump forward. Even standing straight hurt.

Draining the blonde helped, but only just. Eric still had to lean against the van he'd eaten her in just to stay upright. He looked around as he did and watched as the humans and vampires cleaned up his parking lot, shoveling entrails and hosing down pavement while some moved bodies inside. He could still hear Sookie gleefully crying as she held the redhead within the walls of Fangtasia.

Eric, breathing heavily and feeling his body rot, noticed Maria amongst the crowd. Everything had been such a rush that even though he smelled her earlier, he hadn't spoken to her once or even looked at her in the eye. He didn't think he could, not when he knew what he'd see.

Maria held a shovel. She was the one scraping bits off the pavement and dumping them into a black trash bag that was held open by someone he didn't recognize. Scrape, lift, smack. That was the order. The audible scrape of the shovel against asphalt, Maria lifting the spade, and then the wet smack of the bits falling together in the bag.

She never looked up, never bothered acknowledging him.

Scrape, lift, smack.

He'd been in St. Petersburg when he fed from an infected human who claimed to be clean. He'd gone there out of… who knows. Maybe it was some need to reconnect with the little Russian girl he refused to actually contact.

He Googled Maria, which was nothing short of odd, but he rationalized that no one knew, so it wouldn't matter. Everything he'd read about her felt wrong in the sense that it didn't match the woman he knew. Descriptions from friends of the family, other family members, nannies and various staff all said the same thing: _The Grand Duchess Maria was a beautiful, sweet, and amiable girl. She was kind to all she met and her eyes sparkled with not only curiosity, but unfathomable gentleness. There was hardly a time when the young girl wasn't laughing, playing, and running through the halls much to the dismay of her mother, and the exasperation of her nannies. Many regarded her as an angel in human form._

None of that suited the woman he knew. The Maria he knew was harder than that, less joyful and less naïve. It was rare to see her smile genuinely and rarer still to hear her laugh with anything beyond either contempt or maliciousness. Despite the evidence, it was hard for Eric to reconcile the fact that the woman he'd met in Fangtasia and the one written about were the same.

Until he decided that they simply weren't. The press was right. Maria Nikolaevna Romanova, Grand Duchess of Russia and the third child of the tsar died that day in 1918. Whoever Godric pulled out of that pit wasn't the same young woman.

While in Russia he visited the sights. He saw everything there was to see, including the palaces where the Romanovs once lived. They were opulent to be sure.

A sick part of him took him to the field where the bodies had been dumped. It wasn't a field any longer, but in his mind's eye, that was what he saw.

Maria finished scooping up the last bits of body matter and her partner in the cleanup tied the bag shut. They set it aside, grabbed another, and alongside Maria began to scoop up another body.

There was no doubt in Eric's mind that the reason he felt even remotely nostalgic was because he was dying. Hep-V didn't have a miracle cure somewhere out there. No amount of blood would help his body heal. He was dying, and there was something freeing in that. He didn't have to care anymore. He didn't have to care about appearing cold and distant to the people closest to him. Fuck the rest of the world, though.

Eric pushed himself away from the van and slowly approached Maria. He did his best to correct his posture, to stand like the Viking he used to be. Maybe it worked, he couldn't say.

When he was near, Maria seemed to sense him. He noticed her shoulders tense ever-so-slightly before she glanced up at him through her lashes. She was still bent over, in the process of gathering more viscera onto the shovel. They glowed in the night, and not just for their brilliant color. They genuinely glowed. Maria's eyes caught the light from Fangtasia's front door just right, forcing them to give off that fluorescent sheen that cats and other animals had. It was disarming because he couldn't recall it happening before, but it suited her.

He gave her a small smile, then looked to the vampire who'd been helping her. Without a word, he jerked his head to the side, silently telling them to leave. Within an instant, he and Maria were alone.

When he looked at her again, she'd stood completely upright, but her eyes weren't on him anymore. Instead, they were focused on his chest. She was staring at the few veins that peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt. Eric felt a small wash of embarrassment almost strong enough to make him cover them up, but he didn't.

"Lucky me, hm?" It was a joke. She didn't smile.

Somehow, Maria managed to tear her gaze away from his chest and meet his. It was then that he noticed they were glassy and tinting pink. Despite the blank expression on her face, Maria was on the verge of tears. The arrogant side of him wanted to smile out of some sick pride that she would shed tears over his condition. The other side felt guilty for pushing her to that point.

Their eyes were locked as the two of them stood in a deafening silence. Many things wanted to leave him, but at the same time he couldn't do it. There was something holding him back, some foolish thing inside him that prevented the real words from escaping.

He had to bite down, bite down on the embarrassment of exposing himself, and simply do it. He was talking to Maria, of all people. Like Pam, she'd seen him at his weakest. She was only the only person outside his family who could make that claim. Perhaps Bill could be on that list as well, given he'd been there when Nora died, but Eric didn't count Bill.

"I'm sorry." He finally said. "For what I said at Moon Goddess, for how I treated you." There was something disturbingly freeing about opening up. He hoped none of the others were eavesdropping, though. "I want you to come back to me." Her brows twitched slightly. "Not to work for me, or because of our bargain. I don't care about that anymore. I just want you at my side again. At least until I die, that is."

He tried to force the joke and the smile that followed, but as before, Maria didn't respond how he'd hoped. Instead, her brows furrowed and a look of a supreme level of sadness took her features.

Eric actually watched as her eyes filled with tears. It was so quick that she didn't even have to blink to release them. They simply fell, gliding down her pink cheeks while even more welled up in her eyes again.

But she didn't speak. She didn't say a word.

Eric's smile faltered until it disappeared completely. "Please,"

Her lips parted on a breath. So far, it'd been the only sound she made, but still Maria didn't speak. She opened her mouth as though attempting, yet nothing ever came out.

"Why won't you say anything?"

Again, it looked as though she tried, but again there was nothing. Desperation flashed in her eyes. They pleaded with him, begged him for something, but he had no idea what.

Maria seemed to struggle with it, like she was choking on the words. And yet –nothing. There was simply nothing, almost as though her voice had been stolen from her.

Or maybe she didn't have anything to say at all?

The realization that she had nothing to say hit Eric harder than he thought it might. It brought up that childish part again, the part that always wanted to throw some sort of tantrum. It always reared its ugly head when Eric felt he'd put himself out there, exposed himself, and the other party considered it trivial.

She must have seen it, too, seen the moment it happened because her shoulders slumped and her head fell. The defeated look returned to her despite the tears.

He took a partial step forward. Maria looked up through her lashes. For whatever reason, he reached for her and with the back of his curled index finger, he swept away one of the trails of tears from her cheek. Her eyes drifted shut and she moved into the action.

On reflex, Eric slid his hand to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair. He pulled her into a hug, surprising both himself and her at the same time. But she complied, and that was what he found the most important.

Maria's skin burned his despite the layers of fabric between them. Her hands had slipped beneath his jacket and held him close. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and let his eyes drift shut.

It felt different hugging Maria. It was hard for Eric to explain, even to himself, but it was different. When he hugged Sookie, he felt strong, like he was the protector and the Viking God he'd been since he turned. When he hugged Maria, he felt human. Eric couldn't say if that was better or worse, but he felt human. Perhaps it was because he knew how strong she was, how capable. Perhaps it was because her body burned so hot and her heartbeat so hard that he could fool himself into thinking they were his own. Whatever the real cause, the result was the same.

He was glad to linger, to stand there with her in his arms until he turned to liquid. He wanted to go back to the way things were before, not only before he was sick, but before he was cursed. He wanted to go back because he was about as happy as he rationalized he could be, but it was one of those things only obvious in hindsight.

The door to Fangtasia suddenly opened and without warning, Eric was on his own. The heat of Maria's body left him in an instant. He hadn't even felt her leave, only noticed it when the cold seeped in and he opened his eyes to see her standing more than arm's length away.

Eric looked to the door. It was Sookie and her friends, but the blonde lingered when she noticed Eric and Maria standing near one another. Her expression was odd to the vampire. She looked angry.

Sookie stared at the two of them, her face cold and her eyes the same. He saw her clenched her jaw just before tilting her head to the side, telling Maria to follow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maria shake her head. Sookie's agitation grew.

"Now," She growled in a stern, angry way that surprised Eric. He'd never heard that tone from her before. In truth, he hadn't thought she was capable of it, and yet, there it was.

Without another word, Sookie walked away. His attention shifted back to Maria. She was trembling, and the look on her face told Eric it had nothing to do with him. He felt the rage boiling inside her, that same anger he'd felt throughout their months apart –the anger that he couldn't even calculate.

With a growl and a roar, she spun. Maria lobbed the shovel at the wall behind her, the one made of planks. It sailed through the air and when it hit the wall, its pointed end pierced the wood with ease. It hung there, wobblingly only slightly, like some kind of exaggerated dart.

Maria was shaking more than before, breathing heavily, and walking away. She was walking away from _him_, following Sookie like some kind of obedient dog. _She's been that fairy's slave for months._ That's what Pam had told him. He didn't believe her then.

Eric reached out and grabbed Maria's arm to stop her, but she jerked it away with ease. He didn't have the strength to hold on.

Just before she disappeared, Maria cast him a sad, almost pathetic glance. He didn't know what to do.

A second later, she was gone with the others.


	35. Chapter 35

**AN:** First of all, I just want to take a second to genuinely thank everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this story. You are all absolutely awesome. It makes writing even more fun. Secondly, this is an interesting chapter and I 100% hope you guys will tell me what you think of it. Anyway, let me know and do, please, enjoy!

**Chapter 35**

Maria had been let out of her "cage" to clean the house. She was in the middle of sweeping the front entryway when she heard an odd sound in the kitchen. Sookie wasn't expecting company because, if she was, it was common for Maria to be locked in the cubby. Whoever was in the kitchen was unexpected.

She set the broom aside, ready to tell the thieves where the best things to steal were, but was presented by an old man in a suit with wild hair. He stunk and it instantly set Maria on edge.

Fairy.

"Who the fuck are you?" The old man asked with a level of disgust that, frankly, pissed Maria off.

"Who the fuck are _you_?" She shot back. She didn't recognize him and Sookie had only told her not to speak to specific individuals. That meant the old man was free to insult.

"I'm Sookie's fairy godfather." There was undeniable arrogance in his voice that only served to anger her further. And it wasn't simply the arrogance, either. It was the other things he added to it. "You're that thrope she was talking about, aren't you?"

He scowled as he looked her over, twisting his face as though he smelled something disgusting.

"Do you really need me to answer that?"

"I suppose not. Your stench is too pungent to ignore." He brushed the back of his curled index finger under his nose. "Tell me, do all of your kind simply refuse to bathe, or just smell like wet animal all of the time?" She didn't reply, though her body was beginning to vibrate with hatred. "That's what I thought. Now then, make me some spaghetti. I'm hungry."

"No,"

He seemed genuinely shocked by her reply. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said no, you wrinkled ball sack. Make your own spaghetti." Maria knew she was being rude, but he started it.

A flash of fire radiated in his light eyes. An instant later, she saw a buzzing, electrified ball of energy form in his hands.

"You will speak to me with the proper respect, _girl_." He growled. "I am your better in every way, and you will address me as Your Majesty from now on. Do you hear me?"

Maria felt as though her head would explode with the bullshit that was being forced into her ears. She wanted to believe that the fairy wasn't serious, but one glance in his eyes told her otherwise. He was being entirely genuine.

"I don't think so, old man." She said. "Do you have any idea what your little granddaughter or whatever has done to me? I already have to kiss _her_ ass. I'm not about to kiss yours, too."

"Hm," He scoffed at her and let the ball of energy disappear again. "Clearly, she's being too lenient. I never used to let mine off their leashes, or be in human form. You have mouths on you. Best to shut you up."

She was shaking again. "You owned thropes."

He smirked at her. He actually fucking smirked at her.

"Of course I did." He said. "I've probably had half a dozen through the years. Thropes aren't known for being intelligent, but your brawn is useful." He looked over her with distaste once more. "I should have warned her to ensure you remained in animal form when she branded you. I'll have to speak with her when she gets home."

Somehow, through the ringing in her ears, Maria learned one thing in particular that she hadn't known before.

"You told her to do this to me?" Her voice was tight and rigid.

"Of course." He offered a shrug. "If it comes between the safety of my family and some animal's hurt feelings, I'm more concerned with protecting the last fay in my line."

"Oh," The word trembled and Maria's vision began to pulse. "You are, are you?"

He gave her another smug smile and that was when her vision blacked out entirely.

Maria lunged.

* * *

She heard nothing but the beating of her own heart, the blood rushing through her body, and a high-pitched ringing that wouldn't subside. The smell of blood saturated the air and her head ached more than she thought it was physically possible, but it was necessary.

Heat burned under her hands and a litany of things clumped under her fingernails, but she didn't care. She didn't care that she'd torn the fingers off her gloves or that half of her wardrobe was caked with blood. She only cared about her plan.

Sookie appeared in the doorway and paused at the sight in the kitchen. What could only be considered pure terror saturated her face. She looked from her grandfather to Maria and back again. Maria saw her mouth move, but was relieved when she heard nothing. The fairy, on his knees in front of Maria with her hand around his throat, spoke, too. She could feel his vocal chords vibrate, but didn't hear a word. Whatever he said, Sookie was furious when she looked back at Maria.

She yelled, said something, and again, Maria couldn't hear it. She began to smile.

"I'm deaf, bitch." Maria actually laughed. "None of your commands mean shit, now."

Sookies face fell just a bit. Maria could tell that the halfling understood. She'd commanded Maria not to hurt humans or her brother. The old man was neither, so he was free game, and now deaf, Sookie couldn't change that.

"Release me." Maria said. Sookie's tirade ended immediately.

She saw the fairy mouth something like, _what?_

Maria repeated, "Release me now, or I'll rip his throat out."

The fear returned and Sookie did her best to try and think of something, but Maria knew she had no recourse. The fairy "king" was battered, his arms useless because Maria had broken them to keep him from using his Light. His face was bruised, and bloodied and Maria's very dangerous claws were dug into his throat. Sookie didn't have a lot of options, and Maria knew it.

The seconds ticked by and as they did, the ringing in her ears began to subside. Maria's heartbeat increased. She had intentionally deafened herself so that Sookie couldn't bark new commands (a pencil in each ear was unbelievably painful) but she was beginning to heal. If Sookie didn't hurry up, Maria would be shit out of luck, and she knew it.

"Release me now," Her voice was stern. "Or I'll rip his fucking throat out. You know I will, fairy."

The longer Sookie went without speaking, the more worried Maria became. Seconds felt like they were going by even faster and now that she was healing, that was a bad thing.

She didn't know what she expected if she was released. Maria assumed she didn't have to hear it. She hoped, at least, that she would simply _feel_ it. That's what she was betting on, in fact.

Sookie yelled _fine_ and Maria watched her mouth closely. She spoke the words, and toward the end, Maria could begin to hear them, like someone was slowly turning up the volume in her ears.

"Ooo," Sookie said.

The last part of _you_ made it through the haze with ease and the ringing had gone. Maria could hear again, hear Sookie's heavy breathing and the bugs outside. And she'd been right -she felt it.

It was a hard thing to describe. In fact, maybe it wasn't even a feeling. It was knowledge, knowledge that Maria's body was under her control once more.

"Now let him go!" She yelled.

"You tortured me." Maria said. "You tortured me in ways that were more sinister and evil than any vampire I've ever met, and that's truly saying something." Her grip tightened. "And I meant what I said, Stackhouse. I _will_ kill you. I'm not a vampire. Sunlight and a house won't save you from me. After what you've done, rest assured I will pay you back in kind."

Maria wrenched her arm sharply. Her claws ripped through the old fairy's throat and before Sookie could finish screaming in pain over the loss, he was reduced to nothing but dust. An instant later, Maria was gone.

She ran from the house before she could risk being branded again. When she returned, and she would return, she wanted to be at her full strength. She wanted to catch Sookie by surprise. Besides, the thought of Sookie Stackhouse being terrified that Maria would pop out of the shadows, or was lurcking under her bed, the thought that she wouldn't be comfortable in her own home, made Maria happy.

* * *

Sookie let out a loud, angry scream. Many, in fact. She couldn't help it. It was the only thing that helped her come to terms with what was happening around her.

Niall was dead.

She was Hep-V positive.

Bill was dying and it was her fault.

Eric was dying.

Everything was happening all at once and she didn't know how to cope. It felt like the world was collapsing around her. What could she have possibly done to deserve it? She was a good person and she knew that her bad luck wasn't her fault. It was someone else's.

Maria.

Everything bad was Maria's fault. It had to be because Sookie knew damn-well she did absolutely nothing to deserve any of it.

But now Maria was free. She was out in the world without a leash and Sookie was aware she was in danger. What little she knew about the thrope, Sookie could say definitely that Maria seemed to be a woman of her word. If she said she would hunt the fairy down and kill her, she would. Sookie knew she had to find someone to protect her, someone who could stand a fight with the thrope and wouldn't have a problem killing her if they had to. Pam, or maybe even Jessica…

Hell, if it came down to it, Sookie would lie to the other vampires she knew like Keith or Jessica's ex-boyfriend and get them to kill the thrope.

* * *

It was late in the night, not far from dawn in fact, when Eric found his way to Bill's mansion. He'd sought out the fairy he could still feel.

His senses felt like they were dialed up to eleven and he hadn't stopped smiling since feeding from Sarah. He would live.

A knock on the door brought the beautiful blonde to him. The shock and joy in her eyes at the sight of his perfectly ivory skin made him smile again –a smile that faded when she spoke.

"Bill's sick." She told him. "And Maria,"

Eric felt a shock of ice race down his spine at the mention of the other young woman, and he didn't know why, but Sookie didn't continue.

"What?" He pressed.

Sookie's head fell forcing waves of blonde hair to fall into her face. She still held his jacket and tugged on it briefly. When she looked back up, he saw tears welling in her eyes. They hadn't been there a second before and he highly doubted it was for the woman she'd mentioned.

"She's going to kill me." She said in a shaking voice. His brows pulled together. "She killed my fairy godfather, and now she wants to kill me, too."

_She's been your girlfriend's salve for months now._ Eric still wasn't willing to believe Pam even though he knew she wouldn't lie to him. He couldn't say why, but Pam's statement and his view of the fairy were so different that he swore his Progeny had to be wrong despite a voice, quiet but there, telling him otherwise.

So, he'd give Sookie a chance.

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't know." Sookie said. The tears had trickled down her cheeks while she stared up at him with desperation. "She's insane. I've never done _anythin'_ to her, and she wants to kill me, and with Bill sick, I don't have anyone to protect me." Sookie suddenly wrapped her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest. "You have to help me."

"I…"

Further words seemed to refuse to come. Eric couldn't make himself agree or tell her no. He couldn't do much of anything, and Sookie could tell. She drew back, but not far, and stared up at him with that innocence that made people want to protect her.

"Then tell me how you're cured. Let me help Bill. I can't be on my own. She _will_ hurt me."

"I can't."

Eric surprised himself when he managed to pull her arms away and step back. Her crying instantly stopped, as did the begging. Instead, she became angry. The shift was sudden and he noticed.

"What?" She almost growled the word.

"I can't." he said. "It's not ready yet."

"Not ready?" She repeated angrily. "It worked on you."

"It's complicated." He began to retreat through the door. "It's almost dawn. I'll be back tonight."

"He might not have 'till tonight." She snapped and grabbed at his jacket again. "And what are you going to do about Maria? Don't you care that she wants to rip me apart?"

"I have to go," was all he could say.

And before Sookie could say anything else, he launched himself into the air.

Her words circulated through his mind over and over and over again as he flew back to Shreveport. He couldn't believe it, and yet…

When he finally landed, he noticed that Maria's house wasn't abandoned. The lights weren't on, which didn't surprise him given it had probably been a long while since the bills were paid, but he heard movement. It was brisk and quick-paced and then, just as suddenly, the front door opened sharply.

She made it down the front porch steps after locking the front door, a military-like duffle bag over her shoulder, and paused the moment she saw him standing there.

Silence.

Maria didn't smile. She didn't rush for him. She didn't do anything. In fact, she stared at him like he was a complete stranger, which made the smile he'd formed drop slightly.

And then her eyes drifted to his chest.

"You're healed." She said as confusion twisted his features. He nodded. "Congratulations."

And without anything further, she headed down her driveway. There was no car, no bike or truck. Apparently, she chose to walk.

"Maria," He said when she'd made it roughly ten yards. She paused and turned to him. Eric slowly approached. He could feel the sun creeping. "I've come to take you back with me to Fangtasia."

Her eyes sparked with anger. "You're kidding, right?"

His brows narrowed slightly and she seemed to take that as her answer. Suddenly, she dropped the bag. It fell hard, causing bits of dust to puff into air. She was in front of him in an instant.

"Why should I?" She asked angrily. "You chose the fairy twat, remember? You want nothing to do with me." Maria ran her fingers through her hair out of frustration. He could practically taste it. "Look, I'm glad you're okay. I really am, but fuck you, Northman."

She said it with such animosity that he couldn't even make a joke about it.

"You are so goddamn blind about what kind of person your little girlfriend is. Granted, I'm not a good person. I know that, but I'm _nothing_ compared to her. She is probably the most sadistic individual I've ever had the misfortune of meeting, and coming from me, that's truly saying something."

"Are you honestly telling me she's worse than Rasputin?" Eric didn't know where the condescension had come from, or why it stained his words as thickly as it did, but the tone was there regardless and her rage at it was instant.

"He was a twisted prick, but he never hid that behind anything. As much as I fucking _loathe_ that man, at least he was true to the psycho piece of shit he was. But Stackhouse? Oh, no. Prancing around with her little blonde curls with vampire, werewolf, and human alike chasing after her with their tongues hanging out acting like her shit doesn't stink. She is, without a doubt, one of the worst people I've ever known."

That unidentifiable chill prickled the back of his neck, forcing the hair on it to stand on end. He didn't know why, but he spoke.

"She thinks you're going to kill her."

"Oh, I am." She was for too casual for his liking. "I have a whole plethora of things I'm going to do to her, but I'm going to let her sit with it for a while. I want her to be afraid first. Then I'll kill her for what she's done to me."

"You're not going to touch her."

Her brows rose. "No?" He shook his head. "Did Pam tell you what I showed her?"

"She might have mentioned something."

"Hm," Maria nodded her head sarcastically. "Well, allow me to take away some of the mystery."

Maria yanked off a glove and took his hand. The heat of it burned his skin. He reveled in it before his mind was bombarded with a thousand images. They lasted only a second before she let go. As his mind continued to reel, she met his gaze unblinkingly.

"I will skin that bitch alive when the time comes and if you get in my way Northman, I'll take you down, too."

And with that, she turned to walk away. He saw her grab her bag, throw it over her shoulder, and walk away as though she was prepared to walk a thousand miles. Maybe she would and in truth, Eric felt like she might just to get away from him.

The burn of the rising sun had reached a point where Eric knew that if he didn't return to Fangtasia, he would burst into flames. Unable to linger, or go after Maria, he flew into the air back to his nightclub.

* * *

It wasn't quite midday, but toward the end of the morning and creeping ever closer to noon, and Eric hadn't stopped thinking about what had happened at Maria's house.

That had been the third time since meeting Maria that she had forced memories on him. The first time it'd been disorienting as one would think it was. He'd been shown a century of memories, after all. The second time, he'd been a blank slate so her memories were the only ones he had in his mind. It was much easier than the first.

The third time, however, was an odd combination of the two. While Eric was more capable because he knew what to expect, he doubted he'd ever truly be used to viewing a life through someone else's eyes, and that was exactly what she did to him. It was like watching something on VR (virtual reality). He was experiencing it, but not part of it, and truthfully, he was glad for the fact.

He saw everything that had happened to Maria since she had joined with Sookie. He felt her helplessness, her rage and loneliness. He also saw a part of Sookie he hadn't thought existed. She was cruel for cruelty's sake. There was no reason for it other than her own desires to hurt Maria.

On a small level, he could understand her reasoning. Maria had hurt her –slicing through the blonde's face with her fingernails. But, what Sookie did was far beyond that. She physically starved the thrope, deprived her of water or a bathroom. She wouldn't let Maria out of the cubbyhole he'd built for himself for days on end, or allow her to shower. More than once, Sookie had nearly suffocated Maria. She isolated Maria, forbade her from speaking, and turned her into a literal slave.

But the foulest of the physical torture was, by far, forcing Maria to stab herself in the chest. It was slow and painful, and Eric felt every second of it.

The absolute worst, though, was the loneliness. She was so isolated despite being surrounded by people. Maria blamed him and even Pam for turning their backs on her when she'd gone through so much to keep him safe. He knew she was angry at him for it and he didn't blame her. They had spent a year together, as close to a couple as they could possibly be, and the second Sookie showed up, he turned his back on Maria. He cast her aside in favor for a woman that she and others had said wasn't the person Eric thought.

He had been stewing for hours, filled both with Maria's anger over the last few months, and his own over her treatment. Was he so blind as to fall in love with someone he'd been so wrong about? Eric was generally a good judge of character, but what he saw through Maria's eyes… He had never thought it possible, but there was genuine joy on Sookie's face in those memories.

And the command for Maria not to speak to Eric, not to utter a word, made him angry. He'd thought she simply didn't want to speak to him. It turned out that no, her voice had been stolen from her.

She tried to ask for help when she showed Pam everything, but Eric ignored it. He ignored all the signs.

As he sat with Mr. Gus and Pam, someone approached from behind and spoke in Japanese. The only thing that made it through his mind was _Sookie Stackhouse._

Eric flinched. He cast Pam a glance and noticed her anger. Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Eric turned in his seat and there, surrounded by Yakuza men, was Sookie. His brows twitched together. She didn't look the same, and Eric couldn't tell why, but it was as though he was seeing her with fresh eyes.

He saw the way she looked around and when it donned on her that she shouldn't have come to Fangtasia, but he could also see that she didn't care. She never did. Sookie did what she wanted to, what would benefit her in the end. This was simply the most recent instance.

"I don't mean to bother y'all, but, I just need a moment with Eric." She said.

His stomach curled. Of course she did. And, of course, she'd get it because Sookie Stackhouse got everything she wanted.

"Tell me," Mr. Gus said tersely. "How do you two know each other?"

"It's a long story." Eric said as he stood. He looked to the Japanese man at his side. "But I have a few words for her."

"Uh-huh…" He was tense, which Eric understood, especially with the importance of what they were attempting to hide. "Well, you'll excuse me if I don't want her _or you _out of my sight."

"Fine," Eric replied.

He turned and approached the young woman standing only a few feet behind him. Something was bubbling inside Eric, something fueled by a thousand questions.

"Can uh…" Her gaze danced around. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

"No," He told her. She eyed him with confusion, though he doubted she was really surprised. More than once he'd been mean to her in front of others. "Why does Maria want to kill you?"

Sookie immediately stiffened and twitched in a way he'd seen before. It told him that she hadn't expected, or liked his question.

"I don't know." She said. "It doesn't matter. Can we-"

"Try not to lie to me." He interrupted her. Sookie clenched her jaw and he saw her growing agitation in her eyes. "Tell me the truth."

He saw the shift again, the way she stood straighter and exuded her sort of "strength" and resolve.

"She doesn't like me." Sookie said in a tone to match. "She's jealous, that's all."

He moved so quickly that even he didn't know how it happened. One second Sookie was standing on her own two feet. The next, he had her pinned to the top of the nearest table by her throat, inches from her face.

"_Don't_ lie to me." He hissed at her. "I know what you did to her."

Anger, a higher degree than he'd felt in some time, pulsed through his body. It felt like it'd come from nowhere, suddenly consuming him and overriding the part of his brain that cared about the people watching him.

"Eric," Sookie choked and clawed at his hands. He could feel and practically taste her fear. "Please, you're hurting me."

"You tortured her." He growled. "Why?"

He loosened his hold just enough that she could speak. She continued to stare up at him with an incalculable amount of terror.

"Eric, please," She whimpered. She stopped clawing at him and instead tenderly held his arm. Tears trickled down the sides of her face. "If you ever really loved me, you'll let me go."

That made him angrier than he thought possible. She said something incredibly similar to Bill not a year ago.

Eric was suddenly struck with an incredible wave of clarity. He lifted her back to her feet and tenderly held her face. She was trembling, but relaxing quickly. As sweetly as he could, he wiped her tears from her cheeks before threading his hand through her hair. Eric pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

When he drew back, he did so only far enough to let his forehead touch hers. His eyes drifted shut. He could feel her hands grasp at his back, not hugging him but close to it.

"I do love you." He whispered and heard her let out a sigh of relief. He drew back and smiled down at her while his hand slid down to the base of her neck where it rested on her shoulder. She smiled back. "But I love her more."

The sound of breaking bones is a difficult one to explain because there were so many different sorts of bones in the human body. An arm breaking can resemble the snap of a dried twig beneath a layer of leaves. A bone as thick as a femur is deeper, angrier when it breaks.

A neck, however, was something else entirely. It sounded like someone popping their knuckles. It was a subdued sound, one that wasn't overtly terrifying, but it was effective.

Sookie went limp and fell to the floor, a mass of unmoving skin and muscle. Eric took a long, deep, unneeded breath. As he released it, he felt an odd, almost overwhelming calm wash over him.

Eric turned. Pam was staring, wide-eyed and mouth slack, at what he'd done. He said nothing as he regained his seat. When he adjusted himself, he glanced over his shoulder and saw her lying there. Her heart no longer beat and her eyes, still open, held no spark of life.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead and no amount of vampire blood would bring her back this time.


	36. Chapter 36

**AN:** Hey guys! How'd ya like the last chapter? haha. Well, it had to be done. So, here's the next one in line. I'm thinking I might make this story 40 chapters, a nice round number. Oh, and just forewarning, I guess, I thought this was the best way to handle Bill. He was just kind of "meh" in regards to my story anyway, so why not? Anyway, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Chapter 36**

Neither Pam nor Eric felt comfortable enough around the Yakuza to dare sleeping, so they spent the day awake and feeling drained, but it was a better alternative to not waking up at all.

Sookie's body had been removed and either thrown in a ditch, or taken back to Bon Temps. He hoped for the latter. It would be a bit too obvious if her body appeared in Shreveport that he'd been the cause. Then again, it was just as likely as the Yakuza sliced and diced her with their katanas before tossing her into one of a thousand croc-infested swamps.

And while he sat on his throne, he felt strangely at ease with it, but he was tense. It wasn't the Japanese mafia, or that he'd killed Sookie. What bothered him was the last thing he said to her before she died. He told her that he loved Maria more than he loved her. And he meant it. That was what bothered him the most.

Eric hadn't physically moved in some time, but his mind raced. He was in love with Maria. Something so big should have been obvious to him, and yet it wasn't. It took him seeing Sookie as she really was to snap him out of that delirium. Was her blood so infectious?

_It's her blood you're in love with. Not her._

Maria's words echoed in his ears as clearly as if she'd spoken them that moment. She'd been right. She was _always_ right.

But what the hell was he supposed to do now? That information should have been world-shattering. It should have been enough to send him racing after Maria, declare his truth, and take the consequences whatever they might be. But he didn't. He didn't do anything because she was gone and he knew without bothering to go after her how Maria would react.

She would walk away, just like she had.

Pam walking toward him drew Eric's eye. In her hand, she held a small glass reserved for liquor filled with blood. She offered it to him and he took it. It tasted like Sarah. He wasn't surprised. When he handed it back, she didn't move. Instead, she remained.

"What?" He asked her. She clearly had something to say.

"_You actually killed Sookie."_ She said in Swedish.

He arched a brow. "_I thought you'd be glad."_

"_I am. I just never thought it'd happen._" She paused and he noticed a brief glimpse of worry cross her features. _"You talked to Maria?"_ he nodded. _"She showed you what happened?"_

He nodded again, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation. With a small nod of her own, Pam walked away and disappeared into the backroom. When she did, a thought came to him.

Eric rose, retrieved a glass from the bar, and made his way to the basement.

* * *

He knocked on the door and waited. Inside, he could hear the shuffle of footsteps and a moment later, the door opened. Bill looked terrible. The veins had progressed to the point that they covered nearly all of his exposed skin. It made Eric's stomach turn. He'd been sick for over a month and didn't look as terrible as Bill did at that moment.

"Eric," Bill said, drawing the Viking's eye. "Please,"

She stepped aside and swept his hand, silently beckoning the Viking inside like the proper gentleman Bill Compton was. Eric entered and Bill closed the door.

"What can I do for you?"

Eric presented Bill with a glass, the glass he'd taken from the bar that was now half-filled with Sarah Newlan's blood –the cure.

"Here," He said. "This is for you."

Bill's brows pulled together as he took the offering. "What is this?"

"A cure." He replied.

The surprise was instant, which Eric expected. Bill's gaze danced between the glass, which he now held with a level of reverence, and Eric.

"How?"

"Sarah Newlan swallowed the cure. That's her blood, but you _can't_ tell anyone." Eric said firmly. "It has to remain between us."

Bill stared at the slowly drying blood. Eric felt compelled to leave. He'd done what he planned to do, and wanted to finally wash his hands of Bill Compton and Bon Temps completely.

On the outside, it might have seemed odd that someone like Eric Northman would bother risking everything to save Bill, but to the Viking it made total sense. They might have been through Hell together, and he wasn't overly fond of the dark-haired vampire, but Eric respected him. Bill saved Pam. He saved Willa. He had even tried to save Nora, and while he hadn't succeeded with the latter, Eric wasn't completely devoid of family because of Bill.

In spite of everything, Eric felt he owed Bill a chance to save himself.

"Thank you, Eric, truly, but I…" His sentence fell away. "I can't accept this."

To Eric's surprise, Bill offered him the glass once again. For whatever reason, he took it.

"Why?" He felt compelled to ask.

Bill went on to explain his reasoning, and while Eric could respect it, he thought it was oddly foolish as well. Still, he had no intentions of trying to talk the vampire out of it. Eric had always thought that a man should have the choice over his own death. He did when he was human, so why would he rob Bill of the chance? If the southerner wanted to let the virus take him, to die the Truth Death versus living, Eric wouldn't stop him.

"Will you do me a favor?" Bill asked. Eric nodded. "Will you speak with Sookie? Ask her if I may call upon her later?"

Eric found himself standing at a crossroads. To the left, he could tell Bill the truth that Sookie was dead, that she'd died at his own hand, and that there was no way for Bill to ever speak to her again. To the right of the crossroad, he could lie, and straight ahead he could simply refuse.

The urge to tell the truth came fast. It bubbled in his throat and even touched the tip of his tongue, but somehow he did his best to bite it down. For whatever reason, and likely a reason he'd never be able to identify, Eric couldn't bring himself to tell Bill the truth.

"Sure," he said.

Bill smiled a genuinely happy and relieved smile. Eric pitied him.

After he left the house, Eric decided on one thing that, had the situation arisen a year prior, would have been impossible. He decided to show Bill Compton a kindness that he knew no one else would.

Eric listened intently to the inside of the house and heard Bill walk upstairs. He heard him cross the hall and enter a room. A moment later, he heard the bedsprings groan. Eric rose into the air and soon found the window that led to Bill's bedroom. He was lying down, curled onto his side with his back to the window. Eric recognized that level of exhaustion and knew, somehow, that Bill was already asleep.

A nearby tree was within arm's reach and with little effort, Eric snapped off a thin, strong twig. He drifted to the window and pushed it gently open. As silent as possible, he crept up to the sleeping vampire and, before Bill could possibly rise, pierced his heart from behind with the twig.

Bill's body, weakened by the virus, melted easily. It put up no resistance.

With the same casual ease, Eric left.

On his way back to Shreveport, Eric tossed away both the glass of Sarah's blood and the twig he'd used to kill Bill Compton. He'd put the vampire out of his misery, ended his suffering when no one else would. As far as Bill knew, he would awaken to the sight of the love of his life and get to see her one last time, speak to and kiss her one last time. He died with that hope and that was, honestly, the greatest present Eric could give him. Bill wouldn't have to die with the knowledge that Sookie had met the Truth Death before him. He was allowed to dream.

As far as Eric was concerned, his hands were washed entirely of Bon Temps, even though he knew it wasn't true. Eventually, when Sookie's disappearance was noticed, her brother would storm Fangtasia demanding information like he had last time. It could go on for months, and Eric knew that, too. But it didn't matter. He didn't care about Jason Stackhouse. A glamour would get rid of the idiot.

* * *

Maria was doing her best to fall asleep on the train in her own private bunk. She was in no desire to go anywhere fast, but felt the need to simply _go_. With her body under her own control again, she wanted to go wherever she could just _because_ she could.

In a month or so, she'd return to Bon Temps and have her fun with Miss Stackhouse. She'd been exposed to a fair bit of torture in her life and as a result, she knew _exactly_ what she was going to do to Sookie. The thought brought a very real smile to her face as she drifted to sleep. Her revenge would be lovely.

But as she let herself slip and was comforted in a number of violent thoughts, her mind wandered. As anyone could attest, the closer you get to sleep, the harder it is to control what you think about. As a result, Maria, reluctantly, thought about Eric.

The moment the blonde vampire entered her mind, Maria's eyes opened. She stared up at the ceiling of her cubicle.

When she'd gone home, Maria intended to pack her things so that she could leave. She wanted to travel, but the smell of rotting food and the mess her house had been left in made her linger just long enough to clean things up beforehand. When everything was presentable enough that she wouldn't mind it being left for however long, she packed her clothing.

As she left, she spotted a piece of paper on the floor of her foyer. It was far from the door, but clearly hadn't fallen off of anything. For whatever reason, she picked it up. It felt like she was supposed to, so she did, and stowed it in her bag to deal with later.

After locking the door, she was presented with Eric. The sight of him standing there, on her property and as healthy as he should have been left her conflicted. Maria was both relieved and irritated immediately at the sight of him. She was glad he'd been cured, intensely happy for it in fact, but she was still angry with him.

He'd hurt her feelings in a way that was hard to recover from. It wasn't simply that he'd chosen someone else. That could hurt anyone, but that sort of pain faded with relative ease. That was the way of life. It happened all the time. The difference between that and what happened to Maria was the year Sookie was gone. Feelings developed and grew. They became closer in that year, close enough that his clear rejection when Sookie returned had a profound effect.

And she hated him for it. It'd been a long time since Maria felt something for anyone, so the fact that it ended as it did made her angry.

And then there was the letter. Well, it was more of a note, really.

After purchasing her ticket and taking a seat at the station to wait for her train, Maria suddenly remembered the piece of paper. She dug it out of her bag and read over its contents. Her heart instantly sank.

_Come home. I'm sorry._

Four words, two simple sentences, and a fair amount said regardless. She knew it was from Eric without bothering to think about it. Not only did she lack a thriving social life, but more than once he'd asked her to "come home". It was the "I'm sorry" that bothered her so much. To the best of her recollection, Maria couldn't remember Eric Northman ever apologizing for anything, let alone to her.

Part of her wanted to go back to Shreveport, to act like nothing happened and to attempt to pick up where they'd left off. It would be stupid for her to lie to herself and say she didn't. What would be the point? Maria prided herself on her honesty.

But she wouldn't. So long as Sookie Stackhouse was alive, Maria knew there was no chance for her and Eric to regain what they had. In truth, they probably never would, but the fairy being alive was an impassable barrier to that.

Now, that wasn't to say that once she killed Sookie, Maria would run back to Eric like a simpering little girl. She wasn't that sort, and she didn't like the desperation in it, but when Sookie was dead, Maria knew that she and Eric could, possibly someday, repair the damage the bitch had caused. They did, after all, have much longer than a human would to mend what was broken.

* * *

_The Following Morning in Bon Temps_

Jason trudged through the front door. His eyes darted around the first floor while he bounded easily to see around corners.

"Hey, Sook!" Jason called out. "Sook!"

But there was no response. She wasn't in the kitchen, in the living room, or anywhere downstairs. With a sigh and a groan, Jason jogged upstairs. He couldn't believe he'd somehow waken up before his sister.

She must have still been reeling about Alcide's death or Bill's illness.

"Hey, Sookie! Where are ya?" He called out again and again there was no response.

When he opened her bedroom door, he saw why. Sookie was lying in bed, but it was wrong. She wasn't asleep. Maybe it was because of all the dead bodies he'd seen in his adult life, or maybe it was because Sookie was lying on top of the blankets in her clothes. Whatever the reason, he knew she was gone.

Somehow, Jason's body managed to move. It brought him around until he could look at her. Sookie's eyes were open and focusless. The color was already fading. No longer a bright blue, they had become almost milky.

His tears were immediate. Jason collapsed to his knees. They slammed into the wooden floor with an angry bang. He reached out with a shaking hand to touch her, to sweep some of her hair behind her ear. She was colder than ice.

He began to shake uncontrollably. Jason was alone now.

* * *

A week later, Maria was walking along the streets of Montreal. She didn't know what took her to Canada, but she was glad to be there. Montreal was a beautiful city, and she'd been enjoying it.

A cup of coffee from one of the thousand Tim Horton's in the country warmed her hand through her glove. It tasted of maple. Granted, Maria was well aware it could all be in her mind, but she could have sworn that was a hint of maple within her coffee and it made the beverage delicious.

As she walked down the street, the beautiful expanse of a park caught her attention and in the dim light of the early night, it was almost heavenly. She decided to walk through it, but a vendor selling steaming food was practically calling her name.

Quebec was a primarily French speaking province of Canada, and Montreal, being the capital, was the same. Signs, buildings, and a number of other things were written in French and their English translation in smaller print beneath it was common, as was conversations in the much more romantic language. Maria loved it. It was such a stark change from the hillbilly voices of Louisiana that she relished it.

With coffee in one hand already, Maria decided on a pastry and ordered one from the very kind, middle-aged Frenchman with ease. It'd been so long since she'd spoken another language that she was glad she still could. Smiling, she continued on.

Everything was perfect. Her smile hadn't faded and she doubted it could as she sat on a bench and finished her purchases.

Filled with warmth and genuine contentment, Maria eventually decided to continue her walk. Even though she didn't need them, she was nestled deeply within plush winter clothing. Her cashmere scarf was softer than silk, her coat thin, but adequate. Montreal was also a great place for shopping.

Along paths, through trees, and past people, Maria was filled with…

Everything suddenly went cold. There, standing roughly thirty feet away, was Eric. He was stood in the middle of the pathway, lit by the nearby orange glow of the lights. He wore a black peacoat that had been buttoned up, a pale grey scarf tied fancifully around his neck, and a pair of dark jeans. He looked like a model from any number of magazines.

The thought to turn around and walk away was strong, strong enough she could almost feel her feet moving without her permission, but she stopped herself. There was no point. Eric would simply appear in her path again. He'd do it a thousand times just because he'd enjoy the game. The best thing for her to do was to simply confront him.

Whether she wanted to or not, Maria took a deep breath and forced herself to walk forward. Their gaze never diverted, still locked until they were perhaps five feet away from one another.

"Hi," She said, though why she didn't know.

His lips curled into a grin. "Hello."

Maria didn't like that there was a tone to the simple word, or that a part of her was glad to see him.

"What are you doing here?"

"It took me a little while to find you."

_Liar_, she thought to herself. "That didn't answer my question."

His smile widened until she could see his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. Apparently, she amused him. Maria scowled slightly, not only for his reaction, but because it made her heart flutter just a bit.

"Come home," He said as his face relaxed once more.

She eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't travel thousands of miles to bring me back to Shreveport."

He arched a brow. "No?"

"No," She repeated. "You wouldn't travel this far unless you wanted something." And on reflex, she said something that made her chest hurt just a little. "I'm still going to kill Sookie. You can't stop me, no matter how far you travel to try, so just save your breath."

"Sookie's dead."

Maria's brain genuinely paused. It simply stopped working, unable to comprehend what she'd heard, or absorb it. The words still hung in the air, waiting for her to take them, but she wasn't entirely certain she could.

"I… what?"

Eric took a single step closer until she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. She wouldn't, though.

"Sookie's dead."

There they were again, those words. She should have been glad for it, happy that the bitch was finally dead. She should feel the need to celebrate that there would be no miracle that brought Sookie back into their lives, but she wasn't. She couldn't be glad because Maria had been robbed of the chance to do it herself.

"What?!" She hadn't meant to yell the word, to say it with such rage, but that was how it left her regardless.

The sound and intensity of it must have been extreme because Eric took a step back until he stood where he had only a moment prior. He watched her as though she would erupt in flames of anger. Perhaps she would.

"What do you mean _she's dead_?" she finally managed to ask. "How? What happened?"

Eric said nothing. Instead, he removed his hand from his pocket and offered it to her.

"See for yourself." He said simply.

"No," She snapped. "I'm not touching you." She noticed him flinch and his hand retreat slightly. "You think I want to see, to _feel_ how you felt about her? You know how this goes. There's no way in Hell I want to put myself through that. Just tell me what happened."

It took a moment, but eventually Eric lowered his hand and placed it back into his pocket. She could tell he was hurt, but he had to realize there was a reason for it. He had to understand. He was smart enough.

"I killed her."

"Bullshit," The word came as quickly as her previous _what_, filled with utter disbelief. Eric scowled, which surprised her. "Fine," she didn't bother hiding her sarcasm. "Then _why_ did you kill her?"

She saw him bite down, saw the way the muscle in his jaw flexed beneath his ivory skin. He wasn't happy with how she was treating the situation, but in truth, how else was she supposed to react? It was unbelievable.

"For you." He said. Her confusion deepened. "For what she did to you."

Maria shook her head, but she wasn't entirely certain why. "Bullshit," she repeated. "That's bullshit. You'd never hurt her, least of all for me." She noticed him stare at her with a strange expression, one she couldn't immediately identify. "You're just trying to get me to leave her alone."

"You can't be serious."

"Absolutely," She said plainly. "I completely believe you'd do anything you can to protect your fairy. And it's not going to work, Northman."

She could tell he was losing his patience with her. He was getting agitated more than she thought he should, as though there was something he wanted to say that would explain it, but he wouldn't.

"You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," She replied. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Maria took a breath and sighed. She was no longer in the mood to continue placating the Viking. He wasn't going to convince her that Sookie was dead, let alone at his hand. If there was one thing Maria doubted she would ever believe, it was that Eric Northman, a man who'd been obsessed with and willing to die for Sookie, would suddenly turn on a dime and kill her. As far as she was concerned, nothing could have possibly meant that much to him. So, naturally, it was all a lie.

"I'm done." She said. "Go back home and tell her I haven't forgotten. Goodbye, Eric."

Turning her back on him, Maria walked back the direction she'd come. He didn't appear in her path. Instead, she heard a swoosh from behind and knew he'd flown away.

She walked for some time, lost in thought and replaying her unexpected conversation over and over. It was bullshit. It had to be.

Then again…

Maria reached into her pocket and retrieved her cell phone. She brought up Google and typed in Sookie's name along with _obituary _and _Bon Temps_. To her shock, there was a response. Maria suddenly stopped.

_The small town of Bon Temps mourns the passing of one of its residence, Sookie Stackhouse. Miss Stackhouse was deeply loved by her friends and family, and is survived by her brother Jason. The funeral will be held-_

And that was when she stopped reading. There was no denying that the small lines were written about the blonde, not only because she had one of the dumbest names Maria had ever heard, but there was a picture. There she was, Little Miss Sookie, smiling back through the screen. The funeral was two days ago.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead.

Did that mean that Eric had really killed her? It seemed too fantastical, too unbelievable because that meant he did it for her, and Maria simply couldn't accept that.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead.

A sudden wave of anger boiled inside Maria and erupted from her mouth in a loud, ferocious yell. She clenched her fist around her phone, breaking the piece of plastic and metal into a thousand useless bits. She yelled and she yelled and she yelled, and she even punched a nearby tree.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead and Maria would never get her revenge. She'd never get to see that fear in the blonde's eyes, or the hopelessness. She'd never get to see the moment where Sookie gave up because she knew no one was going to come and save her.

Maria would never get to show the fairy just how much she hated her because Eric had taken that chance from her.

And then, Maria's tirade stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun. If Eric killed Sookie, that meant the last thing the waitress saw was a man she claimed to love, a man who'd proven that he'd die for her, and a man who openly said he was devoted to her. Maria assumed that Eric would have drained the blonde given his obsession with her blood, so Sookie would have been holding Eric, probably in some "lover's embrace" and then suddenly realized at some point that she was going to die and he would be the cause.

A smirk curled her lips. She wondered if Sookie was afraid. She wondered if there was a split second of heartbreak and disbelief before she died.

She wondered if someone had filmed it?

As Maria stood there thinking over her many many thoughts, she noticed that the late-night people were staring at her. A crowd had formed, in fact, and most of them were on their phones. It was only then she realized how insane she must have looked to the residents, to suddenly go from screaming rage to laughter within seconds. They were probably calling the police to come and deal with the crazy lady.

She left the park before the flashing lights could appear.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

_Four Years Later_

There was a rolled newspaper sitting on his desk when Eric retired to his office for a little peace and quiet. While he loved Fangtasia, the sounds could draw on even his nerves. He simply wanted to be alone for a little while.

When he took his seat, he reached for the paper with every intention of reading the Financial Section. There was something oddly satisfying about holding it in his hands while he watched the stock of New Blood rise and rise. But he hadn't made it that far into the folds of it. His attention was diverted sharply to the front page. It was a picture of Maria, of all people, standing on the steps of a building not truly visible, surrounded by a ridiculous number of people. The title was intriguing: _Monarchy Returns to Russia?_

His brows pulled together. It wasn't a front page story beyond the photo and the title, but the story wasn't far within. For whatever reason, Eric sought it out.

_Monarchy Returns to Russia?_

_By now, everyone has heard of the Romanov family, either through the tragic ends they met, or the story of the fabled Anastasia possibly surviving her family's assassination. As it turns out, middle daughter of the late Nicholas II, the Last Tsar of Russia, survived and not only survived, but seems to have decided to return home after a century gone._

_Multiple tests, genetic and otherwise, have been both scheduled and conducted thus far to prove her identity and as of now, they seem to be coming up positive. Current Russian leaders were reluctant to accept Maria Romanova in any capacity because, unlike most countries, Russia does not recognize vampires as individuals capable of owning property, but to add another surprise twist to this story, Miss Romanov is not a vampire. While she has remained unchanged over the previous century, the identity of whatever supernatural creature the Grand Duchess is has not been made public as of yet._

_Sources close to the monarch have stated that she has desires to improve her home country, to bring it back to its former glory. Whether or not she will succeed in any capacity remains unclear, but it is the hope of many that she does._

Eric stared at the article for some time, reading it over and over as though it would give him the slightest indication as to what the young woman was up to since he'd last seen her, but it didn't. Why would it?

No longer in the mood to look over the state of his holdings, Eric tossed the paper onto his desk and leaned back into his seat. His gaze drifted to the picture of Maria as he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair. He ran his fingers across his cold lips. It looked as though she was staring right at him through the pale black and white paper, but she wasn't. He hadn't seen her in a long while, and he missed her.

More than once, Maria would cross his mind. He'd wonder how she was doing, w_hat_ she was doing, and when she would come back to him, but she never did. He had often thought about going after her again, but that decision died almost immediately each and every time it crossed his mind. He'd gone after her once and she rebuffed him. Once was more than enough. Eric still had his pride.

* * *

_One Year Later_

New Blood had been a publicly traded company for little more than a year now and the millions were rolling in. Genuinely, Eric had everything he could possibly want. He had his businesses, he had his Progeny, he had more money than he could think to spend in a thousand lifetimes, and he had however many women _and_ men he wanted to spend his time with, but he didn't have happiness. He was content, yes, but not happy.

Fangtasia was closed at the moment and Eric had a dozen things on his mind while he sat in his throne. Ginger was scampering about cleaning or doing whatever she did. Pam was sitting at a table going through the books because she had a keen eye for it, always had, and in the background he vaguely heard a TV replaying the news. He hated when it was on, but Ginger didn't do well in silence and truthfully, Eric hated hearing her swooning at him. It was a recent habit after they'd slept together. Apparently, nearly six years after the fact wasn't enough to cool her appetites.

Six years… it was like a year per second.

While the stock report crawled across the bottom of the screen, a news reporter said something that brought Eric out of his thoughts. In fact, it seemed to draw the attention of the entire room.

"_And with the recent upset in Russia, what are we looking at here?"_

The mention of the country drew Eric's gaze. The little TV was sitting on the bar at an angle, but he could just make out the screen.

"_Well,"_ A male voice said. Eric saw an older man with white, thinning hair, and a smug expression was the one to speak. Eric didn't like him for some reason. "_It's clear that the people have decided they're desperate for a change. Living under a communistic regime has served very few over the last few decades. Apparently, they're willing to go back to the monarchy."_

It was the word _monarchy_ that caused Pam to lift her head. Her brows furrowed curiously before she cast him a glance. An unspoken understanding moved between them.

"Ginger," Pam said smoothly. The blonde human perked. "Turn that up, will ya?"

"Sure," She beamed.

Ginger stepped toward the television and shifted it a bit on the bar so both Pam and Eric could see it, and turned up the volume a little. The screen was split into three panels with the host in the middle, the white-haired man to the left, and a younger, angrier man to the right.

"_Is nobody going to talk about the fact that she's clearly not human?"_ the angrier man snapped. "_Assuming __she's actually the Grand Duchess, she's clearly not human! She's over a hundred years old. Am I the only one who's worried about there being another one of those supernatural abominations in a place of power? Russia still has nuclear weapons. Do we __really__ want a freak like that with her hand on the button?"_

Eric scowled. There was always a bigot somewhere.

"_With all due respect, Mr. Graves,"_ the woman in the middle, the host, said calmly. "_Given the __human__ leadership Russia's had over the last few decades, I fail to see how Miss Romanov can do any worse."_

"_Am I the only one here who thinks this is absolutely irresponsible?"_ The angry man was beginning to turn red in the face and when Eric noticed his title, he saw why. He was Thomas Graves, a televangelist from South Carolina. _"The world's governments can't allow this- this- this __creature__ to take power."_

He was getting so mad that he was beginning to sputter. Eric wondered if a blood vessel would burst in his brain.

The argument continued on for a little while until Eric tuned it out once more. Apparently, Maria was making quite the splash.

* * *

_May 26__th__, 2021_

_Eight Months Later_

The world news was dominated by one thing and one thing only: the crowning of the Empress of Russia.

The world's leaders were in attendance to see the coronation of the first monarch in Russia in over a century.

It had been a major upset when the "democratic" government of the nation rolled over to allow such a dramatic change, but they had no choice when the vast majority of the Russian people voted for her. Whether it was a fanciful and romantic view of kings and queens or the fact that the people were tired of the same oppression that had been weighing them down for generations, the world news debated continuously, but the result was the same: Maria Nikolaevna Romanova, the former Grand Duchess of Russia was now Maria Romanova, Empress of the Russian Empire.

She was crowned one-hundred and twenty-five years to the day after her father.

That was the news that greeted him when he woke up that evening. It was hard to miss, really. The event was plastered over every possible source of media there was.

Eric was in his office. He was leaning back in his chair staring at his computer screen. It was a news article that had popped up on his web browser's homepage. There was no need to seek it out. It was already there alongside a few others. He did click on it, however, but that was unimportant.

It was a picture of Maria in a beautiful ivory gown. The fabric shined which led him to believe it was likely silk, adorned with flourishes be they lace, or patterns of different sorts of fabric. The gown was beautiful with a sloping neckline and small cap sleeves. She had a pair of long white gloves on that shielded the majority of her arms.

She was sitting on a throne with a long black and white cape draped to the side and down the dais. In one hand she held a gilded scepter, in the other an equally elaborate orb, and atop her head rested a crown. If it weren't for the obvious modernity of the whole situation, he could have easily seen the photograph being a century or more old.

Maria stared straight into the camera without emotion, her bright green eyes shining like emerald fire, and he met her gaze unblinkingly. It wasn't as though she could see him through the screen, but he still eyed her like she could for whatever reason.

She looked beautiful.

Pam's heels narrated her arrival before she slinked into his office. He heard her clearly, just didn't bother to move anything more than his eyes to look at her. The moment she was in his office, she paused and her brows furrowed at the sight of him.

"What?" he asked, hopefully without tone.

"What's with you?" She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her weight to one leg.

"Nothing," Eric sat up. He gripped the monitor and spun it to show Pam what he'd been reading.

Her perfectly sculpted brow rose quickly and her flamingo-pink lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, well, well," She practically cooed the words. "Looks like she's doing well for herself."

"M-hm," he muttered as he turned his computer screen back around. He minimized the window, just so he didn't have to look at Maria anymore. "What is it?"

"We need to give _Miss Newlan_ a break." She said with a level of distain that didn't surprise him. Not only did Pam hate Sarah Newlan like most of the world, but there was clear agitation with the fact that the human's body was so weak that she couldn't cope with being fed on almost nightly. "What do you want me to do with her?"

"Send her to Ginger's for a couple of days." He replied.

Pam nodded and left. They'd done it before. Sarah was glamoured to stay close to them, to not run away no matter what they do with her and since Ginger was so loyal on her own, it was the perfect arrangement.

Left alone once more, Eric's mind drifted. He leaned forward and opened the window once again with Maria's photo, and returned to staring at her wondering how the hell everything went so sideways.

* * *

_Saint Petersburg, Russia_

Maria was in her bedchamber. The entire palace had gone silent since the Coronation Ceremony ended hours ago, but she wasn't asleep. She had no intentions of falling asleep any time soon.

Sitting at a writing desk in the corner of the room, reading over the papers lit by a small, antique lamp, Maria read numerous reports and statistics. Her country had been in a sharp downturn ever since the Bolshevik Revolution. Communism had taken hold and never let go, and as a result, people were poor, hungry, and struggling to simply survive.

Russia was home to nearly 150 million people. Out of that incredible number, less than ten percent had what most people would call a "decent" life, and roughly two percent of _that_ number were living comfortably. It was unacceptable to her, especially when so many of the problems were easy to fix.

Theoretically.

Maria knew that coming in from the outside with an array of ideas was one thing. It was easy to say, "raise minimum wage" and "invest in tourism and renewable energy", but it was something else entirely to get the funds to do it. The fact was, Russia was a poor country in many respects. It was riddled with crime and substance abuse because the people weren't given a chance to actually live a life.

Major exports were minerals, natural gas, and oil. They were lucrative because Russia and its vast body could produce a fair amount of all three. The problem was the equipment was imported and the people were paid shit. Not only were they paid shit, but their healthcare was even worse, so if someone was injured or sick, they had no choice but to continue. That, in turn, brought down productivity and risked the employee's health.

Unacceptable.

She knew the battle before her would be uphill. In fact, it'd be up-a-mountain-side-cliff-with-no-climbing-gear-and-one-broken-arm-hard just to get to some level ground. It wasn't about growth right now. It was about stabilization.

Thankfully, the only thing that wasn't tenuous was her position and power. While she'd been elected into office on the basis of her name and handed a crown, it was meant to be symbolic. She was, at first, meant to hold as much power as the English Monarchy, but that wouldn't be good enough for Miss Romanov. Oh, no. What the crooked men who'd been running the country _didn't_ know what that amidst all of the paperwork that had to be signed and notarized and made officially legal, the dozens and dozens of pages that people never truly read, Maria added a few caveats.

Once the paperwork was signed, Maria would be the supreme ruler of Russia.

She had brought back her family's dynasty fully and completely. The branches of government who'd done nothing to help the people and only lined their pockets were no longer the highest authority. They couldn't vote her out of office, they couldn't overthrow her in a bureaucratic sense at all. If they wanted her out, they'd literally have to kill her.

And there had already been a few attempts. Six, in fact. In the last five years, ever since Maria decided that she wanted to help her people, decided that hiding was no longer an option, there had been six assassination attempts on her life. Hell, two of them had been that day. During her coronation parade, someone took a shot at her on the parade route, but the bullet simply embedded itself into the bulletproof glass of her carriage. The second attempt she assumed was the backup plan, and that took place at the Kremlin. It was sloppy. A man with a knife attempting to shove his way through the crowd was never going to work, but it was born out of desperation. Her security team did little to help, but Maria was more than capable of protecting herself, so it didn't truly matter. Thankfully, she didn't damage her dress.

Maria's vision felt like it was glazing over. She'd been staring at paperwork for hours, but she needed to read it. She needed to think.

Her country relied so heavily on import because so much of it was completely uninhabitable. It was an angry, bitterly cold environment. Why do you think so many people who tried to invade never succeeded? They couldn't survive. The only thing in the world that could survive a Russian winter was Her people.

The notebook on the corner of her writing desk had become a repository for ideas. Maria needed to find a way to become less reliant on the outside world, to bring structure and industry to her country, and there was no quicker way than to build factories. Not only would they give hundreds, if not thousands of jobs, but the companies had to pay tax to the country they were established in, and that could bring millions.

Businesses like Google, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft, and many others had already been written down as ideas, but there was one that Maria knew she could benefit from, yet wasn't entirely certain she wanted to entertain. New Blood.

She eyed the two words and knew that a few things were very, _very_ true about the vampire-run company.

One, New Blood would create a lot of jobs, satisfy her vampire subjects, and bring in millions a year in taxes. Two, most other major companies in the world would give Russia a wide berth, unwilling to take the first step under the new regime, so a company like New Blood moving production to her country would break the ice. Three, it could go either way. Either Pam and Eric, the owners in every aspect and vampires she knew, would agree to the deal, or, _because_ she knew them, they could refuse.

New Blood would go a long way in helping Maria get what she wanted, but it was a door she didn't want to knock on. She hadn't spoken to Eric or Pam in years. She knew how they were doing, though, knew how their collective star had catapulted them to the top, because the news wouldn't shut up about it.

They were hailed as the saviors of vampire kind! They ended the raids of Hep-V vampires, and almost ended Hep-V completely. They now owned the only source of artificial blood on the market, somehow managed to tear it away from the Japanese, and flourished. Both Pam and Eric had graced the covers of magazines, newspapers, and even appeared on talk shows. For nearly a year, they were unavoidable. Then again, Maria was sure they could say the same about her.

Ever have someone in your life who isn't anymore, but you still want to impress? It could be an ex, or an old friend who was the sort of person who always had to show off. Whoever it was, whenever your life was going well, you couldn't help but think about them in the back of your mind and say, _I hope you can see how great everything is for me._ It's petty and childish, but that was how Maria felt with Eric.

She knew the moment that she made her plans to reclaim the throne public that the news would spread like wildfire. It was a sensational story, so of course. She also knew that it would reach bum-fuck-nowhere parts of Louisiana like Bon Temps, and even the more bustling Shreveport. Maria wanted Eric Northman to see her moving up in life, to see her and what she was doing, and that day, during her coronation, she wanted him to know that she was the fucking _empress_ now.

Again, it was petty, and while it wouldn't change a single thing in her mind, she still wanted him to see, and to be rolling in jealousy and regret.

But, what about New Blood?

Maria scratched the back of her head as she stared at her notebook of ideas. It still hurt a little from how tightly and how long her hair had been up throughout the day. She was getting a migraine, too.

With a sigh, Maria dropped her pen onto the table and leaned back to stretch. Her spine popped in a very satisfying way which caused her to groan. A moment later, she rose and headed for her bed.

Tomorrow would be her first day as the new ruler of a whole damn country, a job that –even if her family were still alive- wouldn't have passed to her. She was the middle child. She would have been married off to some noble from another country, but that simply wasn't how it happened. Right now, she was the Tsarina which meant she had _a lot_ of work to do, starting with cleaning house.


	38. Chapter 38

**AN:** Let me know what you think, and as ever, ENJOY!

**Chapter 38**

_Six Months Later_

Maria trusted no one.

She surrounded herself with people she could count on to some regard, but she didn't trust anyone because she couldn't afford to. After barely surviving one uprising, she wasn't keen on experiencing another, but that didn't mean it wouldn't happen. After more or less firing an obscene amount of politicians who she knew were embezzling or more corrupted than she could even fathom, and leveling a ridiculous tax on the wealthiest aristocrats (whom she'd found out hadn't paid taxes in decades) Maria's list of enemies had grown to a staggering degree.

But she didn't care. They were steps that had to be taken.

Her personal staff was descended from the people who'd served her and her family in her youth, her security team had been personally selected, and her political and financial advisors were some of the smartest men and women to graduate from a number of colleges within the country. Every piece of her clothing was made in Russia, every piece of furniture was Russian made, and nearly all of the food and alcohol that was served in the palace was the same. Slowly but surely, she was rebuilding what she could with numerous contracts.

A ten-year plan had been laid out which included the building or restoration of numerous factories, some of which were already leased. Because Russia was a producer of steel, things like machine parts and vehicles were cheaper to produce. Given the incentive, Maria had signed deals with two major car companies. Tens of thousands of jobs would arise.

The train system was getting an upgrade in the distant towns and villages where they were in desperate need. Agriculture was getting a reboot as well, as were other avenues of clean energy. Maria had even given rebates to some of the poorest regions to help stimulate growth, rebates that would grow with time, but she needed more. She was still only crawling toward her goal. She needed to leap.

With a sigh, Maria leaned over and pressed a button on her phone. A moment later, a middle-aged woman in a smart outfit entered the office with a pad and paper in hand.

"_Yes, your Majesty?"_ She said respectfully in Russian. It'd been a long while since Maria had spoken English.

"_Call Ivan and tell him I need to set up a meeting with the CEOs of New Blood,"_ her secretary scribbled down the information, _"Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, and Eric Northman."_

When she'd finished writing, she curtsied and left the room, closing the door once more when she had.

Maria slumped in her seat and stared at the cherry wood door her secretary Minerva had scampered through. There was no avoiding it. Maria needed New Blood to build a factory (at least one) in Russia and in order to do it, she was going to have to speak to the vampires from a lifetime ago.

* * *

_Shreveport, Louisiana_

_**2:35 PM**_

He knew he was dreaming, but that didn't stop him from indulging in it.

Eric walked through the halls, through the Grand Peterhof Palace. He'd visited it during his trip to Saint Petersburg and knew some of the layout, so he recognized much of his surroundings.

His feet guided him, took him somewhere else in the palace –somewhere he hadn't been before. They took him to a large set of double doors, wooden and surrounded by ornate molding. He knew without knowing that it was where he belonged. Eric opened the doors with a wide flourish, exposing the interior to him in one swift motion.

The gilded walls and garish adornments drifted to the background of his mind, pushed away in favor of the woman standing in the center of the room with her back to him. There was no detail to her, just an image of a long robe splayed out across the tiled floor and her dark hair swept over her shoulder.

Maria turned. She looked at him coyly over her other shoulder and slowly shifted her body. The robe twisted at the knee, keeping the sea of fabric around her feet, but she faced him regardless. She was bathed in a deep burgundy dressing gown that was thick enough to cope with the cold weather. It was tied around her waist, giving her the only true shape the fabric could allow. Maria's long, black hair was draped over the front of her chest where it fell to her hips in soft waves.

But it was those eyes, those fiery green eyes that could pierce any darkness that he couldn't look away from.

He approached her, closing the distance between them within seconds. Eric immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Maria reciprocated. She clung at him while he held her so tightly she might break. He threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping it firmly and yanked. Maria cried out a pleasure-filled sound as her head jerked back. He didn't hesitate to dive for her throat, but he didn't bite.

Eric missed Maria. Most days, he could ignore the feeling. He could busy himself with work and the sights and sounds of the world around him, but she was never far from his thoughts. He suspected it was because he was stupid enough to love her.

The feelings were, as far as he was concerned, one-sided. He knew she loved him at some point, but it faded. On some level, perhaps he understood, but that didn't mean he liked it. He hated it, in fact, because his feelings hadn't. He was still consumed with them to the point that he still dreamt about the monarch. Regardless of how cold he was on the outside, he still loved the thrope.

Eric could feel her pulse beneath his lips, feel the heat of her skin and even taste it. The monster inside him begged to bite down, to feed, but he didn't let it –not yet, at least.

She weighed nothing in his arms as he lifted her into the air. The next second, without even having to walk, they were lying on a bed. His hands tore the robe away from her body and she did the same with his clothing. They were a flurry of movement, scrambling gracelessly to get what they wanted, and just as suddenly, he was inside her.

The sounds that erupted from Maria's mouth were all sounds he'd heard before, but somehow felt new. He moved against her, driving into her with a level of desperation that he both hated and couldn't help. He was aware he was dreaming and afraid it would end at any second.

But in his dream, Eric could do what he wanted, he could _say_ what he wanted, and he could make her do the same.

"I need you," She whimpered as she struggled to hold him close. "Eric,"

His name was a whisper filled with adoration and love, two things he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard.

"Say it," He said as he continued to move.

There was no hesitation because, in his mind, the answer would always be immediate.

"I love you," She said to him. "I love you so much."

In his mind… it was the truth.

Eric continued to make her gasp and moan, to squirm and shift beneath him. She begged for more, told him everything he wanted to hear, and fulfilled his every desire.

It went that way for hours until, eventually, Eric felt the sun set and the moon rise. He awoke in his coffin in Fangtasia, once more gripped by that angry loneliness that had accompanied him ever since he left Montreal. He didn't know exactly what he expected, but her more or less refusing to believe what he'd done for her and refusing to even touch him to confirm it infuriated him.

Eric rose and made his way upstairs to his office. Pam was already awake, which meant he'd slept longer than he meant to, again. It happened whenever Maria made an appearance in his head.

She was still wearing her pajamas, so he hadn't overslept by much, and on the phone. She was smiling wickedly which caused him to arch a brow.

"You betchya," Pam said with her typically smooth voice. "Bye-bye, now." She hung up. Pam gave him her attention, beaming from whatever the conversation had been. She put her hands to her hips and could barely contain her amusement. "We've been summoned."

"By who?" He was less amused because, unlike Pam, he wasn't in on the joke.

"The Empress," Pam practically giggled.

A strange sensation rocketed down Eric's spine, but he kept his expression blank. Maria was "summoning" him and Pam.

"You go." He told her. Eric approached his closet in the corner and began to finger through the suits within. "I have business here."

"Oh, come on, Eric." He could hear her smile. "You know you wanna."

Eric found his favorite pale grey suit and removed it. He glanced to her briefly.

"No,"

She scowled. "Don't be such a bitch." She said bluntly. "So what if she broke your heart, you own the biggest company in the world. You helped save our entire race, _and_ you rake in nearly a billion dollars a year because of it. Now, get off yer ass, and come with me."

He looked back at her over his shoulder and couldn't help but smirk. He loved Pam.

* * *

_Mikhailovsky Palace, St. Petersburg_

Pam arched a brow as she stared at what could only be described as Russia's Buckingham Palace. In truth, that was probably the Kremlin, but aesthetically, Pam reasoned it was the palace they were driving up to.

A black limousine met them when they'd gotten off the plane, not the sort that a teenager would rent for prom, but a proper limo from the old days. It wasn't a Rolls or a Bentley, but Pam would talk to Maria about changing that.

Their driver took them through the black, wrought iron gates that were guarded by soldiers in uniform, and around in a wide circle before it stopped in front of the palace. A footman opened the door for them and guided them inside. Pam hadn't removed her smile since she'd convinced Eric to join her. Hell, it hadn't faded since she got the phone call. The fact that she was in the palace garnering glances and stares from staff and soldiers alike only served to widen it.

Pam chose to dress to the nines. While she knew proper etiquette would require one form of clothing, Pam's history with the new monarch made her want to choose something Maria was more familiar with. It took a fair amount of willpower for her not to wear a pair of tight, black leather pants, a black blazer, and a pair of heels sharp enough to kill someone. Instead, she opted for a nice, classic black dress that fell to her knees, showed off her curves, but nicely straddled the line.

Eric's outfit, as far as Pam was concerned, was a piece of fashion genius on her part. She was particularly proud of what she'd picked out for him. He was stood in a bespoke navy Armani suit with a t-shirt a shade lighter underneath. The outfit showcased just how incredible he could be. The color made his eyes glow blue. He let her highlight his hair a little before their trip, lightening it just enough because it'd somehow lost a bit of its ashen tone over the last couple of years. And the look was rounded out by his necklace, a long platinum chain –thin and delicate- that held an inch-long platinum pendant that was a Viking symbol carved with runes.

He looked amazing, and that was the point.

Pam didn't like what happened to her Maker after Maria left Shreveport. He'd become solemn and quiet, losing that sparkling light that drew the world to him. Their business helped, but she saw the truth. How could she not? And it made her angry. She'd been there when Eric made the ultimate choice, when he killed his fairy because he wanted his thrope. She'd heard his words and nothing happened. Maria still walked away. That wouldn't stand for the protective Progeny.

The pair was led to a room that was as opulent as one would expect for a royal from any country. In the center, not far from a massive fireplace, was a round table large enough for four people to sit. It was empty and where they were told to sit.

The footman spoke, but Pam's Russian was for shit, so she only caught the basics. It was something about how they would be joined in a little while. Eric said nothing, but nodded. The footman left shortly after.

Alone in the room, Pam's gaze drifted. It was extravagant to be sure, no different than whatever would come up if someone Googled "palace rooms". Hell, there was even a chandelier. And it was all old, probably as old as the building itself.

Roughly five or more minutes after the footman left, the doors opened again, but it wasn't Maria who entered. It was a team of people who promptly began to set the table. It happened in an instant. Suddenly there was a crisp white tablecloth, an entire tea set, and a teapot. Before either Pam or Eric could speak a word, a young man lifted the white teapot and poured their drinks. The blood shined in stark contrast to the pale porcelain, and it was human, not the shit they sold. When he'd finished, he set it aside, bowed to the pair, and left with the others.

"Well," Pam lifted her teacup and felt the warmth of it. "Can't say they don't cater."

Eric didn't smile or bother drinking his blood, but Pam did. It was delicious and just the right temperature. When she set her cup back down, Pam noticed that Eric hadn't moved a muscle. He sat as still as a statue, staring off into the distance without a care of concern as to what was happening around them. But there was something else, something deeper that Pam could see, and it bothered her.

"Eric,"

His gaze drifted to her, but again, he was silent.

Pam opened her mouth to speak again, but wasn't given the chance. When the doors opened a second time, it was finally their hostess.

Maria glided past the gentlemen in uniforms holding the doors open for her wearing something the English royal family would approve of. It was a bit plain for Pam's taste, nothing more than a pale green dress that looked like something Kate Middleton would wear, but it matched their surroundings. Hair down and makeup simple, Maria did her best to keep her expression blank as she approached them.

Pam and Eric shared a glance before they stood to greet her. Tension crept in as they stood there staring at one another. Someone needed to speak, to break the growing unease, but it didn't seem as though Eric or Maria could manage. Instead, they were locked in a staring contest, as though they were waiting to see who would break first.

Pam spoke, "So, what's the deal, 'cause I'm not curtsying."

A grin twitched at the corner of Maria's lips as she looked at the blonde and Pam heard her snort a small laugh. Pam smiled.

"I think I've missed you." She said.

"Naturally." Pam replied.

Maria's eye drifted to Eric. "Northman,"

He remained silent, but gave her a small nod that would have been unnoticeable if you'd blinked.

"We should sit." Maria motioned to the table. The pair sat and Maria did too in the open chair. "I'm sure you know why I asked to see you."

"You want us to build a New Blood factory here." Eric said. Pam hid her surprise. It was the first time he'd spoken since they got on the plane hours ago. Maria nodded. "No,"

If she was capable of hiding her surprise, Maria hadn't managed. She stared at him in shock, which Pam felt as well. There was no hesitation, just blatant refusal.

"What?"

"No," He repeated just as casually as before.

Another bought of silence. Pam's eyes danced between the two. Eric never showed a sign of life. He only stared at Maria who was unable to hide her growing anger. Pam could see her eyes darken and her jaw tighten. She even clenched her white-gloved hands.

"Why?" she managed to force out the word.

"Because I don't want to." He said plainly. "We already have three factories around the world. We don't need another."

"Bullshit," she snapped.

Eric arched a brow. "That's not very ladylike."

Maria's glare deepened and Pam knew she was on the verge of erupting. She'd seen that look in the thrope before. They'd spent years together so the blonde was well-aware of how she looked when she was about to lose her temper.

"Give me one good reason why you won't build a factory here." She said.

"I don't need a reason. It's my company."

Pam fought the urge to correct him. Instead, she was content to sit back and sip on her blood. She missed drama and there was none better at the moment.

"Then why did you come here?" She snapped. "You knew what I needed, what I was going to ask, so why even bother?"

Eric remained silent. He looked at her and said nothing. Instead, he crossed his legs, rested his hands in his lap, and stared.

Maria's ire grew, which any logical person would expect to happen.

Minutes ticked by. It's hard to explain how long a single minute could feel when a situation is ungodly tense, but even harder when it's closer to five that passed. The air had become oppressive and every second felt like it took hours to pass. And all the while, they stared at each other.

Eventually, Maria showed signs of life. She rolled her head from side to side. She let her eyes drift shut and jerked it hard once to the left. A loud pop echoed in the room and she let out a sigh of relief before opening her eyes again, and leveling her stare on Eric.

"I'm not going to play your games." She told him in a voice much calmer than Pam thought she was capable of. "I am trying to make a better life for nearly 150 million people. If you want to waste someone's time, go elsewhere." Maria stood and the double doors that led to the room opened in anticipation. "You're welcomed to stay as long as you'd like. I can have a room made up for the two of you if needed. Enjoy your visit."

And with that, she stepped around the table and left the room. The doors closed promptly afterward.

Pam's head rolled toward Eric. She was annoyed, which he knew he must have been able to see.

"The hell is wrong with you?"

He didn't reply. Pam sighed, shaking her head at him and his childish behavior. In truth, perhaps she should have just been grateful they hadn't gotten into a fight.

* * *

Maria was furious. She was actually vibrating with anger when she left the parlor. In truth, she wanted to be surprised by his glib attitude, but she wasn't. Eric had been like that more times than she could count, but she'd hoped that because of the seriousness of the situation, he'd act like an adult. Apparently not.

She entered her bedroom and dismissed her lady's in waiting. Maria wanted to be alone at the moment.

Standing in front of the vanity, she removed her jewelry and set them in a small decorative box. As she placed the last piece into it, a door in the far corner of her bedroom opened. Unless opened, it looked like another patch of wall. It was a hidden door, one that led to passages the royal families throughout history would use to either escape situations, or to sneak in mistresses and the like.

Through her mirror, Maria saw a man in uniform was the intruder. She knew who he was. Pasha Trova was one of her personal security guards, one of the men she'd hired specifically to keep her safe, and not one of the military guards who adorned the building.

He was a tall young man of roughly thirty years old. He was attractive with dark hair, dark eyes, and a square jaw. His skin was tanner than hers, and he was filled with rolling muscles hidden beneath his grey uniform.

He closed the secret door behind him and approached her with an intense stare. He never seemed to blink. In fact, he stared at her with such deep concentration that it would make a weaker person crumble.

The closer he came, the larger he was. Pasha stood over six-feet tall, probably the same height as Eric Northman, which was not insubstantial. Within a minute or more, she was dwarfed by his presence.

"_What the hell are you doing here?" _she asked him in a cold tone.

Nothing. He gave no verbal response, but he did respond.

Without warning, Pasha acted. He grabbed Maria by her hair and shoved her into the vanity. She was forced to catch herself against it just before his thick, burly body was pressed against her.

He shoved her dress up, tore her panties from her, and with the same brisk actions, he undid his trousers. A millisecond later, he shoved himself inside her. Maria cried out, but it had nothing to do with pain. It was a pleasurable sound and one that filled the air. Maria clutched at the wooden frame while he thrust into her.

Her body vibrated for the first few thrusts before she shoved him off of her. Maria spun, grabbed him by his uniform and pushed him back until he stumbled onto her bed. She was on him in an instant and proceeded to ride him with power fueled by her rage. Pasha's massive hands held her tightly while he met her in stride.

Angry sex was sometimes the most cathartic.

* * *

It was near midnight by the time Maria and Pasha had finally stopped. They lay together in bed, naked and spent. Maria was lying on her back settling her breath while Pasha began to find his clothes.

For a few months now, Maria had been carrying on a relationship with her guard. They weren't dating. In fact, they were far from it. What they had was strictly sex, nothing more. Maria found that she sometimes craved the contact. She needed it. Perhaps it was only human.

She sat up and watched as Pasha got dressed. He was broad and nothing but muscle. Eric Northman was lean, but Pasha was built like he could tear down a hundred-year-old oak tree with his bare hands. Maybe he could.

When he finished getting dressed, he turned to her, bowed respectfully and flashed a small grin before he disappeared back through the secret door.

Alone once more, Maria's mind was given a chance to wander. Pam and Eric were staying in the palace. She'd been told by her people that the guests would be remaining, so she knew they were there. As a result, she felt as though she could feel him in the building. It was possible he wasn't even on the grounds, but Maria could swear that she felt Northman somewhere nearby.

Maria thought back to when she walked into the parlor and saw the two sitting at the small table. Pam looked beautiful, classic with just the right amount of sass. It was her milieu, what she was known for, so of course she drew Maria's eye. Eric, on the other hand, looked incredible and Maria knew the blonde had something to do with it.

When Eric rose to his full height, towering over her like the statuesque Viking that he was, Maria felt her heartbeat quicken just a bit. His chiseled features, his sharp jaw and narrow nose, and his imposing nature were things she always admired. Even when she first met him and hated him, she could respect the overall appearance of him.

Maria thought back even further to the last time she spent a moment with him that wasn't happy, but helped her keep from fawning over him. It helped remind her of her place in his mind. She remembered how he knelt down in front of Bill with a look of complete acquiescence. He was completely resigned to dying for Sookie –the once-proud Viking handing over his life for some fairy snatch. And then he had the gall to be angry at her and Pam for intervening. It was genuine and intense.

It was in that moment that Maria knew whatever they had was over. The Eric Northman that she'd spent little more than a year with wouldn't have rolled over. The Eric Northman that she cradled in her lap as he mourned his Maker, who rescued her from her greatest fear, and who she spent months bonding with wasn't the man she saw that day.

Maria had fallen in love with him during that time, a feeling that genuinely grew after the witch's curse, and she thought he at least cared about her. Maria didn't truly think Eric was capable of love. Whatever he'd shown her she considered more like possession, or possibly obsession, but then came Moon Goddess. That moment showed her that Eric Northman was indeed capable of love, and it was aimed toward the fairy. That meant whatever he felt for her was different, and disproportionate to her feelings for him.

It hurt. It hurt a lot because Maria hadn't felt anything for anyone in so long that she was amazed her heart worked at all. As ridiculous as it might sound to utter out loud, Eric had managed to somehow breathe life into it, make it beat again in some romantic way. Again, she knew it was stupid, but the truth.

What annoyed her so much was that those feelings hadn't faded. She thought they had through the years, it was part of the reason she hadn't reached out to him, but then she saw him standing in her parlor.

Nope. They were still there.


	39. Chapter 39

**AN:** Okay, so, probably not going to end at 40 chapters, lol. Most likely won't go past 45, though. Anyway, here's another. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think and please, ENJOY!

**Chapter 39**

Eric wandered the palace grounds without real purpose. He didn't have a destination in mind, but he couldn't sit idle. Not doing anything wasn't an option, especially in Maria's house.

His eyes danced around the corridor he found himself in. It was as elaborate and highly decorated as one would think a palace hall would be, and the knowledge that this belonged to Maria, his little Girl in the Box, made him uneasy. There was no real reason why, no genuine discomfort or agitation that the palace brought out in him, but there was definitely something. It felt like a mixture of disbelief and simple shock.

He'd been shocked that Maria turned out to be royalty in the first place, but the fact that she had a kingdom, a kingdom that she could return to, never crossed his mind. He considered her crown as ceremonial as his own. While yes, Eric Northman was indeed a king in his own right, his lands, _his_ kingdom, no longer existed. He was so old that it had faded through the centuries. Hers hadn't. Hers was still very much real, and apparently accepting.

With his hands in his pockets, Eric continued down the dimly-lit corridor, noting the way the light shined in through the windows as he did, when he felt the air shift. He heard the soft rustle of fabric and the patter of someone walking on carpet. It sharpened his attention and when he looked up, he saw the source. Eric had expected a guard or one of the random people he'd passed, but no. It was Maria.

She turned the corner in the distance with an antique silver tray in her hands. Atop the glittering surface was a teapot, an overturned teacup on a saucer, and another saucer with a few cookies resting on it. She had made herself a midnight snack, but it looked like an incredibly proper one, which just made it odd.

Maria paused when she saw him. He was still bedecked in the navy suit Pam had put him in, but Maria was now in her nightclothes, a burgundy robe tied tightly around her waist. While it wasn't as long and fanciful as the one he'd dreamed her in, it was similar enough that the dream flashed in his mind.

They stared at one another in silence for a moment or two before Maria seemed to gain control over herself again. She approached him, her eyes unblinkingly focused, and her demeanor calm. He wondered if their conversation would be as awkward as he assumed it might be.

"Hello," She said.

Eric didn't reply. He simply nodded to her. He didn't want to speak, not really. For some reason, he was struck with that same childish desire to be rude, the same thing that made him be so standoffish when they met in the parlor. It would start a fight, he knew, he just didn't care.

Maria arched a brow. She seemed to wait for him to say something, but he had no plans to, and when she realized that, she glowered. Despite the sour look, Eric still noted how beautiful she looked cast in the soft light coming through the window, and he loathed it. He more than loathed it, actually. He hated it.

As she stared at him, Eric could practically see her mind race. He wondered if anger would come through. Maybe she'd remark on how he'd acted earlier in the evening. Maybe she would finally ask to touch his hand so she could know the truth about Sookie. He wouldn't let her out of pride, but he still wanted her to ask.

But she didn't. She didn't do any of those things. Perhaps he should have expected that. Maria never seemed to react the way he wanted her to in these sorts of situations. It was as though she knew what he wanted and refused to give it to him.

"Goodnight," She said.

Still holding the tray and standing with her back regally-straight, Maria walked by him. Eric shifted only enough to keep his gaze on her, but not move out of her way as she passed him. But as she did, he smelled it. Through the stench of the tea and beyond the smell of the cookies, he caught the scent of sex.

Eric was instantly brought to the moment, his attention sharpened. He spun.

"Someone's touched you." He grumbled. Eric hadn't meant for the words to leave him, but they had just the same.

Maria paused. She slowly turned to face him, her face twisted curiously.

"What?"

Now that he'd noticed it, the scent of sex was all he could smell. It overwhelmed her food, the faint smell of cleaners and the people who'd walked through the halls throughout the day. He might as well be in the room while the task was being performed, given how strong it was in his nose. And it made him angry.

Eric glared. "Someone touched you."

She blinked a few times before a slow smile took her lips. There was no happiness in it. Her smile was arrogant, proud, and it made his glare deepen.

"And?"

The level of challenge in her voice angered him deeper than he could put into words. It was quick and mean, the sort of anger that forced people to do things that they wouldn't be able to recall later. It was the sort of anger that ended in blood, but it vanished just as quickly as it had arisen.

He didn't hear the shot, not at first, but he saw the aftermath. The glass shattered, exploding inward. Maria lurched and dropped the tray. The teapot and teacup shattered immediately, spilling all over the carpet. Maria joined it soon enough, crumbling to the floor. He smelled blood.

It all happened within seconds, but seconds was all it took. Someone had shot into the palace with the express intent to assassinate the monarch. Unfortunately for them, Maria Romanova wasn't human.

Maria was crouched forward on the floor for a moment before she moved. She flipped her head up, sending her hair flying back over her head, and stood. Blood stained her left arm where the bullet had gone in, and the front of her chest where it had exited before it hit the wall. The shot wasn't very good. If she'd been human, it might have killed her. As it was, the assassin only served to anger the animal.

Maria rose to her feet in a fluid motion. Her lips were curled back over her teeth, revealing their dangerous points. He could hear the growl deep in her throat and before he could speak or bother asking whether or not she was alright, Maria launched herself out of the same window the bullet had broken. Her body finished the task.

Eric arched a brow and approached the broken panes. Maria had landed on the paved ground two floors below and ran toward the fence. A piece of shit sedan with rusting panels and chipped paint sped off and disappeared before she reached it. Eric knew she would have run them down on foot if she'd been given the chance, but the guards and twenty-foot fence kept her from being able.

The thought of her running down the shooter, leaping onto the roof of the car, and yanking him through the windshield made Eric smirk to himself.

His smile faded quickly, however, when the courtyard-like area below was swarmed with men shouting orders and mobilizing around their leader. The palace was immediately thrust into red alert.

* * *

Maria hadn't stopped stewing since leaving St. Petersburg. She was furious. Beyond furious, really. Someone had tried to kill her and they had gotten the furthest of everyone thus far. They actually shot her.

Protocol meant that she was immediately taken away from the palace, whisked away to some sanctuary. None of her homes in St. Petersburg was an option in case the assassins were banking on the fact, which meant Moscow was the best option. The problem was that Moscow was a seven hour drive away. The flight, however, was little over an hour.

The private plane filled with security and a small bit of staff. The others would arrive on a later flight. Pam and Eric were in their coffins in the back because the sun would already be peeking over the horizon when they landed. Maria was surrounded by people and all she could think of was how badly she wanted to sink her teeth into the person who'd shot her. She would have, happily, regardless of how it would have looked to the normal population.

The captain spoke over the intercom. There was a storm meant to hit Moscow soon. They were racing it. The captain was determined to make it before the snow because, otherwise, they wouldn't be able to land. Snow storms in Russia in mid-December were not the kindest. The winds could blow a plane out of the air with ease.

Maria's knee continued bouncing. She wanted to calm, but she had no idea how. The need for retribution was strong. She needed something to release the built up energy inside her, something-

Her eyes drifted across her security team and landed on Pasha. He was sat in one of the chairs not far from her, facing her in fact, and staring out the window. Maria arched a brow and her knee began to slow. She knew how she was going to get rid of her excess energy.

* * *

The Wooden Palace on the Kolomenskoye Estate looked like a gingerbread house. There were no other words to describe it. The building looked like a gingerbread house made real. Red walls, golden accents, bright colors, and the snow outside only gave it an even more Christmas-y feel.

That was where Eric found himself when he woke up that evening.

He emerged in a room that was as extravagant as the one in Saint Petersburg, but far removed, too. After he dressed, he left his room. Pam was apparently in the room closest to his, and had finished getting ready for the night as well.

"Well," She sighed with annoyance. "That was interesting. What the hell happened, anyway?"

Eric told her about the assassination attempt, that he'd been there when Maria was shot, and how the monarch charged after her assailants before she was stopped by her guards. Pam seemed surprised. He understood why. The entire palace was a flurry of action after the word went out and as he was gathered up (a guest of the empress and in need of "protection") he was never told what happened. They simply told him to grab his things because they were being evacuated. As a result, he understood why Pam wouldn't know entirely what happened.

"Hm," She muttered. With her hands on her hips, Pam approached the nearest window and looked out over a sea of white, with even more falling from the sky. "We're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere. Great."

He grinned a little to himself. They weren't far from the Russian capital, but the building was surrounded by a park, orchards, and gardens which were now blanketed in snow. It gave off a desolate, isolated feeling.

Eric and Pam took it upon themselves to wander, both in the search of food and something to do. Pam wasn't a fan of the cold. It wasn't that they could feel it, so temperature had nothing to do with it. She hated to bleakness of it, the monochromatic color of winter. She wasn't raised in the north, not like him. Eric loved the cold. He loved the snow. He loved the biting winds, the icy rain, and the tempests that a proper winter brought. He wished he could still feel it, but was happy enough to be surrounded by it.

The pair eventually broke apart. Eric wanted to explore the grounds, and he was well aware that Pam had no interest trudging through the snow.

He found his way outside and smiled to himself as his feet sank. The snow already reached the center of his shins. It was a couple of feet deep and showed no signs of stopping. With his hands in his pockets, he went on a walk.

The wind howled as it raced along the sides of the palace. The way it had to scale the strange architecture made it sing, despite it not being gale-force. Flurries fell thickly from the blackness up above, to the point Eric's shoulders were soon hidden beneath a couple of inches of snow. He felt how they touched his face and hesitated to melt at first. His skin was too cold for them to manage it quickly.

Around and around, through trees and along invisible paths he wandered. Eric felt at ease and was content to remain in his own head when he saw Maria in the distance. It wasn't until he spotted her lazily walking down a pathway, surrounded by four large, intense men that he realized how far he'd made it from the actual palace. Eric turned. He couldn't even see it. Without noticing it, he'd managed to make it to the apple orchards nearly a mile away.

Eric's attention drifted back to the empress a few dozen yards ahead. Maria looked so small next to her guards. They were intimidating and he could see how they would frighten a lesser being. Each of them stood roughly his height, was broader than a door, and wore thick grey fabric. He was sure somewhere beneath their fur-lined coats was a uniform of some kind. At the moment, very little eluded to them being some form of military beyond their rigid stance, uniformed way of standing around her, and their fuzzy hats.

But Maria, surrounded by them, looked like a child in comparison. She barely reached their shoulders and was nearly engulfed in fabric. Her coat was a deep navy, form-fitting, long one that trailed slightly over the snow as she walked. A big, thick fur collar offered partial protection from the weather, and when the wind blew, he caught glimpses of the same fur beneath. Maria probably needed the jacket to some extent, but he doubted she felt the cold the same as a human.

Her attire, the twisted, gnarled bodies of the barren apple trees, the weather, and the random wisps of light offered by the sparse streetlamps made the entire situation seem oddly romantic, like someone had dreamed it up versus reality.

As he stood there, glad that he hadn't been noticed, Eric let himself think. He wondered how different things would have been if she'd taken his hand all those years ago. He wondered how different things would be if he hadn't sent her away at Moon Goddess. He wondered how different things would have been if Anthony never brought her to Fangtasia.

He wondered how different things would have been if her family hadn't been assassinated.

It was a strange mixture of events that brought them together, a series of moments that went back over a century because Eric knew that if Maria and her family hadn't been in that basement that night, it was probable that he never would have met her. And now that he had, they seemed forever within arm's reach. He had two choices and he knew it. He could either continue to be stubborn and fall back into the way he used to be, or Eric could grow up. The answer should have been simple, and with anyone else, it probably would have been,

Eric decided that his time would be better served elsewhere. He had no intention of deciding one way or the other, so he chose to simply leave.

He made it only a few steps before the air shifted around him. Eric spun and saw the reason why. A handful of people, vampires, stood in front of Maria. Judging by the tension he saw reflected in her guards' bodies, the vampires weren't friends. Eric felt a prickle of the coming fight touch the back of his neck, and he welcomed it.

Within an instant, he was stood beside Maria in the center of her men. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look up at him with a curious expression, but she didn't speak. Instead, the man in the lead of the vampire group chose to.

"_You think you could get away with it?"_ He asked in Russian.

Maria easily replied. _"You'll have to be more specific. I've done a lot of things."_

"_We liked the ways things were before you came around."_ He continued. "_We worked hard to get things that way in the first place, but you ruined it."_

"_I feel like you want me to apologize. That won't happen."_

Eric might not have known exactly what they were talking about, but he was smart enough to guess. Vampires in politics wasn't a new thing. As far back as any form of ruler-ship went, vampires were in the shadows, generally pulling the strings. Given how corrupt Russia had been for so long, it bore to reason that vampires had, if not been responsible for it, benefitted from it. Maria apparently put that to an end, and they weren't happy.

"_I want you to die."_ He growled.

Maria wasn't even the slightest bit bothered when she said, "_That won't happen, either."_

"_You think this will be enough to stop us?"_ The vampire asked as he motioned to Eric and the four men surrounding Maria. _"Ha!"_

When he whistled loudly, another wave of vampires filled the area. What had once been six, perhaps seven bodies, had suddenly ballooned to thirty. Eric arched a brow as he looked over their would-be attackers. Eric's mind began to swim with battle plans, with ideas on how to weave through their assailants and kill them efficiently because he highly doubted her guards would be able to do much about it, but as he did, Eric heard something strange.

The sound of laughter met his ears. It was soft, genuinely amused, and emanating from the young woman at his side. He glanced down at her and saw her smile to match. She wasn't afraid. She didn't even seem concerned. Eric eyed her curiously.

Maria let out a satisfied _ah_-like breath at the end of her laughter. He saw her chew briefly on her bottom lip, shake her head, and let her smile fade immediately.

In what was perhaps the sweetest, most innocent voice, Maria said, "_Kill them all."_

What happened next was beyond words. Eric couldn't truly absorb it at first, simply struck dumb by what he'd seen.

The four guards, who were entirely without weapons of any kind, charged forward without fear. They rushed the vampires and before they reached them, Eric heard a terrifying sound. A chorus of roars -that deep, horrifying rumbling sound that he felt vibrate his bones, echoed through the air. It took him a second to realize that the sound came from her men.

Their uniforms tore, their skin split, and bodies that were no longer human burst through the tattered remnants. Four ungodly-large bears threw themselves into the gathering of shocked vampires. Their brown fur stood out in stark contrast to the white snow and within seconds it was matted down, and stained red.

Maria's personal guard were ursanthropes: bear thropes.

The fight that raged was violent and vicious. The giant beast would periodically rise onto their back feet before throwing themselves onto an attacker. Each time they did, they towered over even Eric. Enormous creatures that were more like SUVs in fur.

But the vampires had gotten over their shock quickly enough and began to fight. The ursanthropes might have been strong, but sometimes numbers meant everything.

A sound of pure agony met his ears. Eric looked in the direction and saw one of the thropes collapse to the ground. A vampire stood over it with a beating mass in her hand. It was a heart and when the ursanthrope shifted back into its human form, Eric knew he was dead. Maria seemed to know the same, and that was as much as she was willing to withstand.

Maria quickly yanked her coat off her body and launched into the fray. Eric smiled to himself. No fear. No hesitation. And she was vicious.

It took no time at all for her lion to emerge and when it had, Eric too joined the fight. With his age and the thropes, the vampire intruders stood no chance.

The battle lasted minutes at best and soon they stood within a sea of red. Viscera and blood saturated nearly every surface. The brilliant white of the snow was gone. The trees too were painted, and some (which had been used as stakes) were decorated with strips of vampire "flesh" that hung disturbingly from many branches. It was a scene of violence and it made Eric grin.

Surrounded once more by silence, Eric glanced down at his body. His suit was covered in blood, as were his hands and any other bits of skin. Pam would be furious that he'd possibly ruined the suit. He glanced around and spotted Maria already in human form wrapping herself in her jacket once again. Not far from her, two of the remaining ursanthropes stalk towards the body of their fallen compatriot. The third, however, was heading toward him.

Eric stared into the nearly-black eyes of the beast as it approached. The crunch of snow beneath its paws and its deep, huffing breath were all he heard. Clouds of steam left its nostrils which made it seem even more frightening. But the closer it drew, the more Eric was able to see the sheer size of the animal. An average Russian brown bear stood at roughly four feet at the shoulder. That would have put him at Eric's chest. Not this animal. This animal could meet Eric's eye with little more than a tilt of the head. And then it stood.

The bear rose to its hind legs, drawing itself to its full height. The tallest bear in the world was a Kodiak. On its hind legs, they could measure ten feet. But this was a thrope, a supernatural animal made larger than its natural counterpart. As a result, Eric's head barely reached the bear's "elbow". He had to take a wide step back and crane his neck just to meet the beast's eye.

The ursanthrope's lips curled back over dangerous teeth and it let lose a loud, ferocious roar that –even Eric had to admit- was frightening. He could feel how badly the blood-soaked creature wanted to attack him, regardless of whether or not he was the Empress's guest.

"Pasha," Maria said calmly.

The young woman, as stained in blood as everyone else, approached and soon stood beside Eric. If he thought she looked child-like surrounded by the guards before, it was nothing compared to how she looked against the ursanthrope.

Unafraid, she said, "_Tend to Mikhail."_

The beast looked to Eric, paused, and then back to Maria. Eric watched as the bear began to disappear, melt away to reveal the young man he'd once been. The attractive stranger hardly seemed smaller than before, though now Eric could meet his gaze directly. He nodded to Maria, and then turned to join his now-human comrades.

A gust of wind swept over the scene and brought with it a scent that made Eric scowl. It was familiar. It was the scent he'd smelled on Maria the night before, and it came from Pasha.

"Come," Maria said. "We should return to the palace."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she set off toward the gingerbread house. The three men who remained lifted their fallen friend. Pasha and another soldier took an arm each. The third man grabbed the dead guard's legs. They followed Maria back, caked in drying blood and naked as the day they were born.

Eric was slow to join them because now he had a face. He knew who'd been touching Maria, who'd been warming her bed in his absence, and he didn't like it.


	40. Chapter 40

**AN:** Not too long, and kind of a filler while I try to figure out what the hell to do to wrap the story up. lol. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

**Chapter 40**

Maria spent a fair amount of time bathing. She had to get chunks of vampire out of her hair and scrub it from beneath her fingernails. The memory of what had happened less than an hour was still fresh in her mind. Mikhail, the poor bastard, had died protecting her. It was his job, sure, but that didn't make it any easier for her to digest. By now, he'd been wrapped and stored. His family would be notified soon and then he would be transported for burial.

Maria would make sure his family would be taken care of properly. They deserved more than empty platitudes. In many ways, she felt like she'd lost a brother. While werewolves, shifters, and other weres were close-minded enough that they kept to their own species, thropes weren't the same. They shared a past, no matter the species, and they weren't entirely common. The fact that Maria had managed to find four to be her personal guard astounded her. Then again, three of them were related.

Mikhail Gregorvich was the cousin of two of her other guards, Alexi and Andrei, who were brothers. If she recalled correctly, Mikhail lived with his mother, who struggled to make ends meet. He had a little sister who, if she could remember, was only in secondary school. They lived in a poor side of town and barely kept their heads above water. It was Andrei and Alexi who suggested him for her personal guard because he was like them. Maria immediately agreed, and now regretted that decision.

Still, she had every intention of making things right. Well, she would make them more palatable. There was no way for her to bring him back.

Eventually, Maria exited the shower. She dried herself off and dressed. When she was marginally presentable, she made her way to the garage. It was on the other side of the building and where they had taken Mikhail. He wasn't in the house, but he wasn't left to the elements.

When she reached the garage, Maria wasn't surprised to see Andrei and Alexi lingering nearby. Her eyes fell to the body in the center of the room. A table had been brought in to lay the cloth-covered corpse on. Andrei and Alexi saw her and Andrei, who'd been sitting, rose to his feet. Alexi pushed himself away from the wall. They both stood straight, held their arms tight to their side, and bowed stiffly. She offered them a nod and they relaxed just a bit.

Maria approached the body. Her brows furrowed as she stared down at the mass. She pitied him and his family.

"_His mother lives in the city, yes?"_ she asked in a somber tone.

"_Yes, Empress."_ Andrei muttered brokenly.

"_When the snow stops, we will all go and visit her."_

They gave her a nod.

"_You're relieved of your duties until further notice."_

Alexi perked. Concern was etched across his face. "_But we can-"_

She held up her hand and he was instantly silenced. "_Mourn your family. You don't have to worry about me."_

They were hesitant to agree, but eventually did. When they had, Maria gave them both another small nod and left them. She didn't want the pair of them to worry about working when they'd just lost their cousin.

As Maria returned to the palace, she once more thought back to the fight. It had been chaos, but out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn one or two vampires had run away. She couldn't say whether or not they made it, but she hoped one of them did. Then they could tell the others what happened when they foolishly attacked the crown.

Lost in her thoughts, it wasn't until someone called out that she was brought back into reality. Maria looked up and saw Pam sauntering toward her bedecked in her typical fashion with her equally familiar makeup. She was dressed in one of her soft pink, 1950s Avon saleswoman outfits, but the glint in her purple/blue eyes was always too wicked for the outfit to subdue.

"Eric told me what happened." She said when she came to a stop. Pam placed her hands on her hips and gave Maria a once over. "Twice in two days. That happen often?"

"It's not uncommon." She replied. "Get rid of the people who've called the shots for a long time and strip them of their means, they tend to get pissy."

Her full lips quirked into a tiny smirk. "You're accent's stronger."

Maria's brows tugged together curiously. Not only was that a random thing to say, but she didn't agree. As far as she knew, she spoke English as well as she had before. Then again, maybe not. Until they arrived for the meeting, Maria hadn't spoken English in years. It made sense that her accent might have regained a footing.

"It's cute." Pam said.

The confusion faded in favor of a light scowl, which made Pam chuckle.

After a moment, Maria said, "Perhaps the two of you should take the first flight home." Pam seemed surprised by the statement. "Things are too complicated now, and since Eric has no desire to build here, there isn't much point."

Maria watched as Pam's perfectly-done brows began to gather in the center of her forehead. At first, she couldn't decide if the blonde was curious or annoyed. Until she saw the flash. Annoyed.

"The two of you are like a pair of goddamn children." Pam said. Maria's brows rose in unison. "How 'bout ya stop and actually sit down and talk, hm? Before I rip the two of you apart."

"I've tried that. It didn't work."

Pam glared. "Try again. You know how stubborn he is."

Maria cocked a brow. "I don't cow down to people -never have, never will. If he wants to act like a child, then he's welcomed to."

And with that, she stepped around the blonde and headed down the hall. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she wanted to put space between them.

"He killed Sookie for you, y'know." Pam called out when Maria was perhaps ten yards away.

The phrase caused her to pause. She turned to see Pam staring at her blankly. The same thing sprang to mind as it had when Eric told her.

"Bullshit." She said.

Pam offered her hand. In Maria's mind, she practically heard the blonde say, _see for yourself. Use your freaky mind powers._

Maria weighed her options. On the one hand, she would finally be able to see Sookie die. Even after so many years, the thought was an attractive one. Hell, through Pam, Maria didn't have to worry about the feelings that would have made her stomach turn with Eric. On the other…

Maria paused. On the other hand, she didn't want to prove him right, and it was that thought that made her hesitate. Maybe she was being childish?

She was a bit apprehensive as she approached Pam, but she eventually closed the distance between them. She had put another pair of gloves on and tugged off one of them before she wrapped her hand around Pam's.

After an initial touch, it took a small level of concentration for her to glean anything else. She was grateful for it because if she'd been hit with someone's entire life every time she touched their skin, Maria would never remove her gloves. She probably would have lost her mind a long time ago, too.

Maria did her best to draw the memories away from Pam, to siphon them out of her like drinking something through a straw. It took a fair minute until, gradually, images of the past began to flash into her mind. They made no sense at first, and she didn't expect them to. She'd have to think back on them later.

When Maria let go, Pam gave her an expectant look. It was in that moment that she realized the blonde was waiting for her to confirm what she'd said. Pam didn't realize or didn't care that Maria had to make her way through six years of events.

"I need to get some rest." She finally said. "I have to tell a mother her son was murdered tomorrow."

And with that, Maria turned and left the hall. Pam didn't stop her and she was grateful for it. When she had a minute to herself, she'd go through everything, but not right now.

* * *

By the following afternoon, the snow hadn't stopped, but it had slowed enough that driving wasn't a problem. As a result, Maria and her personal guard left the Wooden Palace and drove into the city to speak with Mikhail's family. Maria was dreading it because she knew it would be emotional and she didn't do well with emotions.

And she'd been right. When they found the broken down apartment complex where the Gregorvich family resided, the pit in her chest grew. Mikhail's mother lived in one of those complexes that was little more than four grey buildings. They were generally ten or so floors high, pale, ugly grey concrete, and set out in the middle of a desolate landscape that looked just as dreary. They were low-income housing developments, and looked it.

Pasha had warned her that they shouldn't proceed, though why he wasted the breath, she couldn't say. He was well aware that she, as well as the three of them, were more than capable of fighting off any muggers lingering within the shadows.

Andrei and Alexi led the way to their Aunt's apartment. It was on the fifth floor of one of the horrible buildings. They had to take the stairs because the elevator was broken. The hallways and stairwells had no windows, and most of the lights were broken. They were cast in darkness the whole trip. Once or twice, they had to side-step a homeless-like person sleeping in a doorway and avoid suspicious damp spots on the concrete. Given the overwhelming stench of piss, it wasn't hard to figure out what the spots were.

When they finally reached the fifth floor, Alexi knocked and the door opened after he declared who they were. A short woman, small and slight in build, was happy to see her nephews and surprised to see Maria. The shock quickly turned to embarrassment as they were led into the apartment that couldn't have been more than seven-hundred square feet. With the addition of three men who were as big as a linebacker each, Maria, and Mikhail's little sister, seven-hundred square feet felt like a closet.

Mrs. Gregorvich made multiple apologies and turned red with shame as Maria was offered a seat on the couch. She politely refused, not because she was disgusted, but because she wanted Mrs. Gregorvich and her daughter to be the ones who sat. The shame began to dissipate when the somber tone seeped in, and vanished entirely when she suddenly noticed that her little boy wasn't with them.

Maria confirmed her fears and, as anyone would expect, the older woman broke down into tears. She clung to her daughter who was slower to cry. Mikhail's little sister just seemed shocked, too stunned to do much of anything. She looked to be eleven, twelve years old, so Maria knew she understood, she just didn't seem able at the moment.

She let the older woman cry and wail for a moment before she spoke.

"_I want you to know that everything will be taken care of."_ She felt compelled to say. Mrs. Gregorvich looked up at her with tear-stained cheeks and eyes so red and filled with tears that it looked painful. "_You'll be taken care of, too."_

That was all she could think to say. Mrs. Gregorvich nodded weakly, which Maria expected. She stood, and her guards mobilized. Before she left, she told Andrei and Alexi to stay with their aunt. She told them that she would be sending someone by later. They nodded. Maria and Pasha soon left.

In the car on the way back to the palace, Maria felt her insides churn. It ached because that woman's love of her son was so strong that it couldn't have bowled Maria over. It probably would have if she stayed much longer.

Tears burned at her eyes. She planned to make sure they were taken care of completely. She wanted them to never have to worry about anything ever again because it was her fault they lost the breadwinner in the family. Before she made the journey, Maria looked over Mikhail's file. As part of his background check, they learned what his family did. His father was dead and his mother worked for minimum wage in a convenience store. Mikhail was who supported them almost exclusively, and now he was gone.

With a sigh, Maria let her head fall back against her seat. She stared up at the ceiling of the car. Her plan for the Gregorvich family was already in place, so her mind drifted to what Pam had shown her. It was hard to sift through everything because it wasn't as though she could recall something as easily as her own memory. They weren't her memories. Instead, it was more like fast forwarding through a however-many-hours-long movie that had been diced up and rearranged for one specific part. It was tricky.

But she managed to while she laid in bed. Her mind had wandered as one's tended to wander just before they fell asleep. Through Pam's eyes, she saw Eric confront Sookie. She saw him thrown her down on a table and scold her. Maria saw him then lift her to her feet, kiss her softly, then snap her neck. The sound of it made Maria's heart race happily. As did the careless way he dropped the fairy to the floor.

And yet, it was the thought of what he said to the fairy witch.

"_I do love you," _he said, "_but I love her more."_

It rang out in her ears, echoed like she'd heard it herself. She wanted to believe him, but it was difficult. Either because of her own mistrustful personality, or because Eric was an asshole, Maria just found it hard to trust half of what he says.

* * *

Later That Day:

There was a knock on the door. Alexi rose to answer it. His aunt and Sofia were still sitting on the couch in shock even hours later, and Andrei was in the kitchen making something to eat. He was the only one to do it.

He made it across the small space and peeked through the peephole. There was a man in a suit on the other side, a man he knew and recognized as one of the Empress's footmen. He opened it.

"_Yeah?"_ He asked.

"_She asked me to bring this."_ He gave Alexi a thick manila envelope that was puffed out. It was full of something, or many things, and awkwardly-shaped as a result.

Alexi was slow to take it, but did. The footman nodded and promptly left, probably quicker than he'd arrived. Still confused, Alexi closed the door and locked it once more before he returned to the living room.

"_Who was it?"_ His aunt asked.

"_The Empress's footman. He brought this."_

Alexi offered her the envelope, and she took it with the same confusion he'd harbored. She opened it and reached inside.

A moment later, she withdrew a thick packet of papers and began to thumb through them. They looked like a real estate listing if the photos he caught brief glimpses of was anything to go by.

"_What is it?"_ Alexi asked.

"_I'm not sure."_

He held out his hand and his aunt gave him the papers. The first bit that was stapled together was a real estate packet with detailed photos of a fancy apartment in Moscow. It was in a luxury complex referred to as Panorama. The apartment itself had four rooms, two of which were bedrooms, and four bathrooms. It was fully furnished, on the eighth floor, and had views of the city. Despite that portion being blacked out, Alexi noticed that the price tag was hidden behind a rather long stretch. It made him think that the cost was six, if not seven digits.

The next group of stapled papers was an automobile leasing agreement for a brand new Honda SUV. It was fully equipped and had a fully-inclusive ten-year warranty. The price was also blacked out.

The final packet of papers was for a private girl's school in the city. It was one of the best schools around and incredibly expensive because of that. According to the paperwork, Sofia was meant to attend as soon as the next semester began and would remain until she graduated. Tuition had been taken care of. All his aunt had to do was sign the papers.

The evidence was clear, but his mind seemed incapable of accepting what he saw. No matter how many times he tried, he just couldn't manage.

An odd sound drew his attention and when he looked up, he saw that his aunt had turned the envelope upside down, spilling two sets of keys onto the coffee table. One belonged to a car, the other to a house. And then everything snapped into place.

A note fluttered out as well, alongside a business card. His aunt lifted the note and read it aloud.

"_Your son made the ultimate sacrifice to keep me safe, and I will never be able to repay that, but please allow me to try. Enclosed is the deed to your new home, the paperwork for both a new vehicle, and enrollment for Sofia to attend school. You need only to sign the paperwork to make it official, and don't worry about the taxes. There are none._

"_Please accept my deepest condolences and these gifts. Enclosed is also the business card of the company I contacted to host the funeral. They're expecting your call._

_ Thank you,_

_ M. Romanova"_

The room fell into silence. All eyes were focused on the mass of papers and keys.

* * *

Back at the palace, Maria pulled out a chair and sat. With Mikhail's family squared away, she had the time and the mental clarity to address another issue. She crossed her legs and prepared herself for the wait, all the while staring at the silver coffin across from her.


	41. Chapter 41

**AN:** Ten days, woo! I didn't know it'd been that long since my last update. Sorry about that, you guys. I'd like to say it won't happen again, but I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm working on another book, so I don't notice how many days have gone by without me writing for this story. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. There's a little bit of smutty-smut, which is always nice, lol. Anyway, please let me know what you think and ENJOY!

**Chapter 41**

He could feel her. He could feel her sitting so close that it woke him up in the middle of the day. The sun was out and he knew the Bleeds were on the way, but that didn't matter to him. Instead, Eric pressed the internal release and opened his coffin. Sure enough, Maria was sitting only a few yards away in a chair. She stared at him plainly.

Eric didn't speak as he rose and closed the silver box behind him. He kept his gaze to hers, slid his hands into his pockets, and simply stood there.

A minute passed, perhaps another, before Maria stood as well. She took the back of the chair and set it once more beneath the table she taken it from, and approached him. Eric noticed her tugging off one of her white cotton gloves.

"Give me your hand." She said as she offered hers.

Eric arched a brow. A number of things raced through his mind.

Firstly, Pam had said it to him before, but it wasn't until that moment where Eric noticed that Maria's accent had, in fact, become stronger. Her 'R's curled now, and 'H's started in the back of her throat. It was, genuinely, rather sexy, and he hated her for it. For whatever reason, he chose to believe that she intentionally strengthened her accent just to tease him.

Secondly, Eric wanted to remain childish and refuse, but he was glad that she was at least willing to touch his skin. There was no way for him to know what had changed her mind since he first offered, but something clearly had. His hand shifted within his pocket, it unfurled and was ready to emerge when he somehow "thought better of it".

"Why?"

The childish side of him reared its ugly head.

Though her expression remained primarily blank, he could see her agitation. "Give me your hand." She said sternly.

"No,"

"You ridiculous, infantile, irritating little-"

"That's not very regal, Empress." He didn't bother to remove the mocking tone, which he knew she noticed.

"I've had enough." Maria said. Eric watched curiously as she removed her second glove, tossed the pair to the side, and then began to remove her extravagant, vintage Cartier, diamond earrings. "I had to tell a woman that her son was butchered on my behalf." She began to remove her matching necklace. "I was yelled at by your Progeny." He grinned to himself while Maria set her jewelry aside. "And now, you're being a prick." He arched a brow to her, his first external show of emotion since he'd awakened. "I no longer have patience for you or anyone else." She kicked off her shoes. "You will show me what I want to know."

Eric felt his heart struggle to start beating once again with excitement. He knew a fight was coming, possibly violent, and he wanted to partake.

"Will I?"

"You will."

Maria dug the ball of her foot into the expensive rug a split second before she launched herself at him. Eric let her get close enough that he felt the air shift when he dodged her swipe. His smile immediately emerged as the battle began.

Eric knew that all she had to do was touch his skin for a moment to glean everything from him, and he wanted to keep her from that. It was part of his enjoyment. Maria was relentless in her attempts, though. If she'd had any of his blood in her system, she would have been more evenly matched. As it was, Maria (while still quick) wasn't fast enough to grab the thousand-year-old vampire. That didn't stop them from breaking furniture in the process, however. They weren't delicate, basically.

The longer they "played", the angrier she became. Eric should have known that was when Maria would resort to underhanded tactics.

While Eric recovered from another dodge, Maria reacted. She launched shards of a broken piece of furniture at him. The mini-stakes embedded themselves in his legs. Eric cried out and couldn't immediately run away, which was probably the point. That brief hesitation was more than enough for Maria to finally sink her claws –literally- into him.

Maria leapt onto his back like a crack-ridden spider monkey. She immediately dug those talons into his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his waist, and held tight. Eric was less concerned with her than the stakes in his thighs.

He angrily jerked each of them out while her fiery hand immediately clamped down on his face. As his legs began to heal, Eric grabbed her by the arm and threw her over his body. Maria spun in the air and landed on the crumpled bed on all fours. She stared up at him through tendrils of hair. He glared back, though honestly didn't even mind.

Silently, Maria stood. Being on the bed, she was able to look down her nose at him. She exuded superiority. It rolled off her like thick fog and while it would have angered him with anyone else, while he would have wanted to skin them alive for presuming they were better than him in any way, he didn't mind it with her. In fact, he liked it.

It was difficult to explain, even to himself, but the only other person he could say that about was Pam. Eric loved it when Pam lorded over others, even when she sent some of that in his direction. Perhaps it was simply because she had the personality for it. It was genuine when it came from Pam. Other women couldn't manage it properly. Nan, for example, acted superior without substance. As did Sookie. But Pam, Nora, and Maria were a different breed.

So as she stood over him, surrounded in the aura that could only come from thousands of years of thrope ancestry, from hundreds of years of royalty, and from decades of a difficult life, Eric felt that it was deserved. Despite her disheveled hair and the dress that was slightly ruffled after their bout, Eric could believe that she was a ruler.

As they stared at one another, he noticed her gaze shift to her hands. Eric could see crimson staining her pastel manicure. Her attention was sharply focused on her digits. It was clear that he'd bled onto her when she dug them into his shoulders, but was surprised to see how intensely she was staring at them.

For those few seconds, Eric knew he disappeared to her. In fact, he could see something else: hunger. He narrowed his eyes briefly and even took a step closer just to be sure.

Maria's lips were parted slightly and her breathing heavy, which made sense given their previous exertion, but this was different. Eric drew even closer and noticed that her eyes had darkened as well. Closer and closer her fingers drifted to her mouth and he found himself wanting her to taste the blood there. While the sight of her desiring his blood after so long was enough to stroke his ego, he wanted so badly to see her succumb to it.

When he stood within six or so feet of the bed, he finally drew Maria's attention. Her eyes darted to him and he was finally able to see just how much of the green was being choked out. His blood coursed through his body and began to centralize below his belt. He wanted her to lick her fingers, to taste him like she had so many times before.

His mind suddenly flashed with a memory he rather liked: the first time they slept together.

_He felt her reaching a climax and knew what he wanted. Blood was never sweeter, never better, than when it was saturated with pure elation. _

_Her fingernails tore into his back, her body began to tense, and just before he knew she would have plummeted over the edge, Eric bit into her neck. Maria cried out while her orgasm immediately tore through her body. Her blood exploded in his mouth, every muscle clamped down around him, and all of it was too much for him to take. Eric came an instant later._

_Maria trembled beneath him, her breathing nothing more than soft and delicate whimpers, and he felt the same. If he'd been reliant on air at all, he would have been struggling for it, too. As it was, he did still breathe heavily._

_Eventually, when he had control over himself again, Eric drew back. Maria looked up at him with her skin tinted pink, a light sheen of sweat already forming on her brow, and her eyes filled with absolute adoration. She looked beautiful._

_He felt her finally remove her fingernails from his back and unwrap them from around him. A moment later, he noticed her bring them forward and, as he thought, she had in fact pierced his skin. His blood, deep and crimson, stained her fingertips thickly. If he hadn't healed the instant she removed them, he might have been worried._

_Heavy eyes met his and, in what was perhaps the most alluring thing he'd ever seen, Maria placed her bloodied fingertips into her mouth. Her full lips encircled her digits as she sucked the blood, __his__ blood, and it made him want to go through his skin. _

_He smiled and as she withdrew her finger, he took her hand into his. Eric proceeded to suck some of the lingering blood away as well. She drew her bottom lip through her teeth when he did._

The moment he took her finger from his mouth, they kissed and started all over again. That was their first time together, their "reward" for surviving the nightmare that was Rasputin. It began everything, good and bad, and it was all he could think of as she stared at him now.

_Just do it,_ he thought angrily to himself.

As though sensing what he wanted, Maria's lips parted further. Her tongue slowly emerged and drew his focus. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, which made his nerves even thinner. He felt as though he was about to go through his skin and just before she would have finally swept her tongue over the bloodied fingers, the door to the room burst open.

Eric spun. His fangs sprang free and he lowered himself, ready for the fight he knew was coming. The intruder was Pasha and he looked furious. When his eyes landed on Eric, he let loose a ferocious bear's roar. Eric hissed back. He didn't care how big Pasha became when he transformed, the Viking had every intention of ripping the ursanthrope apart.

The air was electric.

"Enough!" Maria shouted angrily.

Everything stopped, but Eric kept his eye on Pasha, whose gaze danced between the two he'd interrupted. From behind, he could hear her leap off the bed and her soft footfalls take her into his line of sight.

"_What are you doing here?"_ She asked Pasha.

He was hesitant to take his gaze away from Eric, but seemed unwilling to ignore his Empress's question.

"_Someone said they heard you fighting with the vampire."_ He said angrily. Eric wondered, albeit briefly, if Pasha had ever spoken so much. Probably not. "_I came to rescue you."_

Maria arched a single brow. "_I do not need rescuing."_

Her tone seemed to bring Pasha completely out of the moment. He even went so far as to almost turn his back on Eric completely to address her. Even though he could only see Pasha's profile, he could see how her words had affected the ursanthrope.

His head immediately fell and he looked ashamed of his assumptions.

"_Of course,_" He said softly. Eric noticed Maria's expression fall as well. She sighed lightly.

"_I mean,_" She said heavily, "_that I was in no danger, so in no need of being rescued." _Pasha said nothing, but nodded. Maria turned her attention to Eric. "Get some sleep, Mr. Northman. You're bleeding."

And with that, she left the room. Before she disappeared, Maria was sure to gather her things, and then she was gone. Pasha, however, remained for a moment.

His dark eyes landed on Eric and all kindness and respect that was reflected at Maria had vanished. His eyes turned cold.

In an almost too-thick Russian accent, Pasha said, "I do not like you."

Eric cocked a brow and let an arrogant smile tug at his lips. He even went so far as to chuckle, which only angered Pasha further. Eric found himself wondering if the soldier would attack, or was disciplined enough to keep his hands to himself despite how badly he wanted to fight.

Without another word, Pasha turned and left as well. When he was gone, Eric laughed again. His mind flashed with scenes from Rocky IV with Drago. He was as threatened by the ursanthrope as he'd been by a fake Russian character from a movie.

* * *

Maria's walk back to her bedroom was brisk. She wanted to remove herself from the entire situation as quickly as possible. While that wasn't exactly how she expected her confrontation with Eric to go, she couldn't say she was entirely surprised by it. What did surprise her, however, was when she nearly tasted his blood. It'd been a long time since his blood had touched her tongue, but in that moment, she remembered how much she liked it. It was that memory that drove her decision. If Pasha hadn't barged in, she knew she would have tasted Eric again.

When she was safely within her bedroom, Maria glanced down to her fingertips. The blood had dried completely. It was caked beneath her fingernails and was far-less appetizing. Now that the moment had passed, Maria chose to wash her hands instead of tasting the blood.

Her heart still raced as she picked the blood out from under her nails. Her fight with Eric had brought back a lot of memories and they were nicer than she wanted them to be.

_During the Sookie-free Year:_

Egos were a problem with Eric Northman and Maria Romanov. They each had a healthy, strong ego, and their egos didn't get along very well. They were rather fond of conflict, in fact, which caused problems sometimes. Other times, they led to fun experiments.

Maria raced through the forest, pressing her bleeding hands against each tree she passed. When the wound on her palms healed, she would slice them open again and proceed. She ran so quickly that a human most likely wouldn't have seen her, but that was assuming a human being would be so deep into the bayou.

The bet was simple. Maria had one hour to hide and Eric had two hours to seek. They had to stay within a square mile, which would have been a lot of space if they were normal people. If he found her in the allotted time, Eric won. If he didn't, she won. It was that easy and what was the reward? Nothing. There was no money, no prize of any kind. The only thing the winner received was a boost to their ego in the knowledge that they were better than the other.

The moon was at half-mast, though Maria didn't know if it was waxing or waning. Really, it didn't matter. As it was, it simply offered her even more shadows to hide within beneath the thick, swamp canopy.

Dressed like a ninja in black spandex, Maria continued to spread her scent over absolutely everything she could. She was sure to lay down enough that it would linger, spread enough blood that Eric wouldn't be able to use her scent to locate her. She couldn't say how fine-tuned the senses of a thousand-year-old vampire were, so she acted as though he would be able to smell, see, or sense her ten miles away.

As she ran, Maria found a wide space covered with damp moss, and she smiled. After freshly cutting into her hand, she was sure to drop a fair amount of it onto the slimy green flora. The humidity helped her already because it would keep the blood wet longer, but using damp moss would ensure large patches of it would stay wet even longer than that. If her plan worked as she wanted it to, Eric would confuse it with the young woman herself.

The watch Maria wore beeped, alerting her to the fact that her time was up. She had seconds at best before Eric would reach her. As quickly as she could, Maria rinsed her hands in the swamp and found the mangrove tree that she'd spotted earlier. There was a perfect hole in the "trunk" in which she could fit. Maria quickly dove into it and hunkered down.

Minutes ticked by and Maria had gone completely still. She hadn't moved since she took to hiding because she assumed that Eric, no matter where he was, would somehow know, and she was fairly certain he would fly overhead. Even though she was inside the tree and hidden from the sky, Maria pretended that he'd still see her.

The sounds of the swamp were deafening. The bugs and other critters had come back out after her trek through the trees. She'd startled a few, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. The trouble was, they were really, _really_ loud.

For some time, Maria had taken to counting to sixty in her head and counting on her fingers. She didn't dare look at her watch to see how long had passed because the light alone would shine like a beacon. She counted deliberately slow, too. That way, she knew at least a minute had passed. Underestimating was better than overestimating.

Maria had counted nearly forty-five minutes since she'd hidden within the tree before the world around her went quiet. Slowly but surely, the insects began to fade. Maria's body stiffened. They sensed a predator and she knew it was Eric.

In, and out. In, and out. Maria kept her breathing measured because she had no doubt he'd try to search for her heartbeat or heavy breathing through the suddenly-silent bayou. And then, in the distance, she saw him appear.

The tall shadow of Eric Northman loomed twenty, maybe thirty yards away. He was stood on the overturned logs and broken trees where she'd deposited a fair bit of her blood. Her eyes were conditioned to see in the dark, so the shadows did little to nothing to hide him. As a result, she could plainly see him crouch down and touch the blood.

"Goddamn it," he growled under his breath.

A smile curled the corner of her lips. He was frustrated, which meant more than once he'd been tricked by her.

In the distance, Maria heard the sound of a snapping twig and a rush of water. She knew it was most likely a gator sliding into the swamp. Eric probably knew the same, but he vanished in search of it regardless. Maria assumed he was probably double-checking that it wasn't her.

Maria knew she was in the clear and that if she didn't move, she would probably win their wager, but there was a problem. The predator in her, the animal, wanted to hunt. She wanted to stalk and to attack, and Maria couldn't keep it down now that she'd seen Eric.

Slowly but surely, Maria climbed out of her perfect hiding place and up the side of the tree. Her fingernails sliced easily into the soft, waterlogged wood, which helped her get to the lowest thick branch. Like the feline she kept hidden within, Maria slinked along the branch. She kept her eyes open.

When Eric reemerged to continue searching the area he'd left to investigate the gator, Maria flattened herself against the branch. She stopped moving immediately and watched. He moved slowly, deliberately, and she knew he was taking in everything. If he was the hunter she thought he was, Eric was probably looking for footprints, rustled foliage, or broken twigs to give him any indication.

The Viking eventually rose from his crouched position and on very quiet feet headed toward the shore. To be fair, she had run in that direction after leaving behind her blood, but she'd backpedaled, so Eric was actually walking away from her.

So low that her chest nearly touched the branch, Maria began to stalk him. She was sure to keep a good distance between them, but soon reached the end of the line. It would be stupid for her to try and leap to the next one because he'd hear her. Thankfully, her salvation soon appeared.

The sky lit up with a flash of lightning. It was blinding after being so used to the darkness, but a roll of thunder soon followed. It was in that roll of thunder where she jumped. The sound of her landing and the tree's branches ruffling were overshadowed.

Further and further she followed Eric into the swamp until each of them was finally on shore. Unfortunately for her, Maria's path through the trees had ended. The nearest one was too far for even her to jump. As a result, she had no choice but to drop.

She dropped to the ground and remained motionless to see if he heard her. When Eric gave no indication that he had, she began to stalk towards him once again. Her fingers sank into the mud, her toes did the same. The lion within wanted to come through, but she wouldn't allow it. As good as she could have been within the lion's skin, an animal that large would have been easy to see.

Another bolt of lightning caused her to freeze. Then another boom of thunder followed. The rain was even closer than before.

Partially hidden behind some sort of fern, Maria stared at her prey. Eric's back was to her. He wasn't moving or breathing. He was listening and in truth, Maria somehow knew he could hear her. She was so close that her heartbeat must have sounded loudly in his ears. That knowledge didn't stay her hand, however. It made her react.

Without warning, Maria leap at the Viking and just as suddenly, he countered. Inches from grabbing him, Eric spun, took hold of Maria, and brought her down to the ground in one fluid motion. He was on her in an instant, his body pressed to hers and pinning her in place.

She looked up into his stormy eyes. Eric grinned. "I win." He said.

"No you didn't." She smiled back. "You have no idea where I was hiding."

He arched a brow. "No?"

Maria's smile broadened to the point she actually laughed a little.

"No," She replied. "You walked by me a few times without even glancing in my direction."

Despite his efforts, she could see his irritation with the fact that she was right. She knew him too well not to see it.

In the distance, Maria heard something interesting. She could hear the rain, and it was drawing nearer.

"If we don't move soon, we're going to get wet."

The innuendo was only apparent to her ears after the fact, but Eric heard it immediately if his smirk was anything to go by.

"Is that a fact?" He asked leadingly. Maria only nodded. "Are you saying you aren't already? You have been running through a swamp."

She glowered lightly at him, but her smile had barely faded. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No?"

Eric's hand had been pressed to her chest to keep her pinned to the ground, but it began to move. She felt the tips of his fingers glide down her body before they dipped beneath the spandex waistband of her yoga pants. An instant later, they were between her legs. Maria gasped while an arrogant chuckle echoed in his throat.

His fingers began to dance, directed by the skill that he'd gained through his life, and the knowledge of what she liked.

His voice was deeper when he asked, "You were saying?"

On a breath, Maria said, "Stop talking."

She immediately pulled him down into a kiss.

They kissed one another passionately, determined to devour their partner, while Eric worked the magic only he could. Maria was being shoved into euphoria. The desire between them grew until it hit a fever pitch for them both.

Maria immediately began to tear his clothing from his body, and Eric did the same. They didn't remove them, they tore. The fabric put up no resistance and was soon relegated to nothing but useless scraps.

Eric soon drove into her. Maria clung to him as they had sex, and felt her body erupt like it always did. At some point, the sky opened up and rain poured down over them, but it did nothing to dampen their longing for one another.

Maria, eventually, rolled Eric onto his back and took the reins. He allowed it because she knew he loved it as much as she did. There was also something else he loved that she doubted he let anyone do other than her.

Her teeth sank into his shoulder with ease and his blood filled her mouth. Eric groaned from deep in his throat, his grip on her hips tightened, and his thrusts increased. Maria drank for only a moment before she withdrew, flipping her now-wet hair back and over her head. It hit her back with a wet thwack. Maria felt the heat of Eric's vampire blood rushing through her body, felt it ignite everything like it always did, but it was tempered by the rain that fell against her face.

When she looked back down at him, Maria noticed how intensely he was staring at her. She must have looked a state, with her hair falling in tendrils, his blood across her face, and trails of red cascading down her body. To a normal person, she probably would have looked terrifying. If Eric's expression was anything to go by, he liked it.

One of his hands glided up her body. It groped everything it touched until he wrapped it around her throat. Eric tensed his grip just enough to pull had back down and promptly kissed her.

Maria had lost count of how many times the two of them had slept together until that point, but it was a fair amount, which meant reaching a climax never took long. Eric knew how to touch her, Maria knew how to touch him, and as a result, the bayou was filled with the sound of the storm and Maria's cries in a few short minutes.

_Present:_

Maria stared into nothingness as she rubbed lotion into her hands. After scrubbing them clean, ensuring she had absolutely none of his blood beneath her fingertips, her hands felt dry. She'd taken many baths and showers with boiling hot water in recent days, it seemed, so of course her skin was dry.

While she stared out into the distance, Maria couldn't help but think back. The fights she and Eric had had never been normal in the first place, but after they passed that line, _every_ fight ended in sex. Perhaps that was why the little skirmish that happened a short time ago left her so flustered.

Eric was a powerful man, but he let her take control. He relented to the woman he was once so sure to tell she was beneath him, and she knew why. Maria was well aware that he liked her being the dominant one in their little "relationship". She couldn't say why, perhaps it was simply _because_ he was so powerful, but Maria had wondered for some time if Eric was the sort of man who secretly craved that sort of woman.

Who else would be able to put up with his attitude? It would take someone of a certain disposition. That being said, Maria was fairly certain it wasn't her. She'd kill him eventually. The desire was there quite often as it was.

Shaking her head back into reality, Maria did was she could to try and ignore the intense longing she felt for the vampire on the other end of the palace.


	42. Chapter 42

**AN:** Ladies and gents! I present to you, the Final Chapter! Well, I'll probably do an epilogue, a little something to show where everyone is, but yeah, this is the last chapter I think. I am so, so grateful you guys have stuck around for this long and that you've told me, good and bad, what you think. I really liked writing this. So now, here it is. I'll post an epilogue later, but I hope to hear what you think and, as always, please ENJOY!

**Chapter 42**

Maria was still staring into nothingness when there was a knock on her door. She went to answer it and was surprised to find Pasha on the other side. He gave her a low, respectful nod, and waited for what she would say. Maria remained silent, but stepped aside and let him enter.

"_Is there something I can help you with?"_ she asked as she closed the door behind him.

"_I wanted to apologize again for my behavior earlier."_

"_There's no need."_ She said.

Pasha finally lifted his head enough that his dark eyes could meet hers. She could tell he had more to say and simply waited for it.

"_May I speak freely?" _

Maria nodded. Pasha had only ever been respectful toward her, so there was no "fear" in what he might say. Besides, she was a big girl. It was highly unlikely he could somehow hurt her feelings.

"_Your vampire,"_ Pasha eventually said. _"You have a past, yes?"_

"_Yes_," she nodded.

"_I don't like him."_

Maria smiled a little to herself_. "Not many do."_

"_You do."_

She took a deep breath and sighed. _"Yes, I do."_

He looked her over. _"You love him."_

Maria tightened her jaw just a bit, but didn't offer an answer. In her silence, Pasha seemed to come to a conclusion –the correct conclusion, in fact.

He said nothing more, simply nodded, bowed, and then left. Maria watched him go and somehow knew what had just transpired. She and Pasha were through.

Their relationship was perhaps one of the simplest in the world. They had sex, nothing more. There was no danger of feelings, no danger of someone wanting more, because neither would _ever_ want more. That was why she chose him.

Maria had hired him and the others personally, and one question that she asked all four of them were their plans towards a family. It was an important thing to know because a family would mean that their priorities would, naturally, change. While she had no intentions of firing them if they began a family, she would obviously remove them from her own personal guard where their focus would have to be so fully on her.

The others didn't have a plan for a family in any regard, not even an inkling. Pasha, on the other hand, knew full-well what he wanted. He told her that he would give her ten years of his service without question, ten years devoted specifically to her. And then, afterward, he would search for a potential wife. He wanted to find an ursanthrope like himself to help continue their kind.

Maria could respect his desire to continue his species' line. Pasha was a proud man, proud to be a soldier, to be Russian, and to be an ursanthrope. Thropes were rare enough on their own. There was no telling what the official number of ursanthropes was in the world. While he could clearly be with a human, the chance of an ursanthrope offspring was slim, and he was in no rush. It wasn't as though they aged the same as everyone else. There was time for Pasha to find his bear-bride.

But now with Eric's reemergence in her life once more, it was clear that Pasha sensed there was more between the two. It wasn't as though she and Eric hid it, either, so of course someone as intelligent as Pasha would sense it. It was probably even clearer now that Maria had gleaned the truth from the Viking.

Eric Northman loved her.

* * *

When Eric awoke that night, he was filled with the knowledge that his and Pam's time in Russia was coming to an end. There was nothing for them in the icy country, and prolonging their visit no longer made sense. But, whether he was a glutton for punishment or because he needed closure for his own frame of mind, Eric wanted to speak to Maria before he returned to Louisiana.

He wandered through the palace, but it was no longer aimless. He could sense Maria. In truth, he always could. Sometimes, through the years, he'd call on the connection just to make sure she was still there, even though he never planned to do anything about it. Now, however, he chose to seek her out.

Perhaps ten minutes later, he found Maria in one of the many large rooms. He could never tell what they were supposed to be used for. How many parlors or official living rooms could a place have? The answer was many, apparently.

Eric remained in the background while she spoke to one of her staff and didn't make himself known until the servant left. When she glanced up, Maria seemed slightly surprised to see him as they approached one another.

They said nothing for a moment, maybe two, until Maria finally spoke.

"You killed the fairy for me." She said.

Eric fought the urge to smile outright because he knew it would come across as smug. His smile was rarely anything else. Instead, he simply nodded.

"You're in love with me."

He said nothing as he slid his hands into his pockets. For some reason, admitting something so simple out loud was still a bit too difficult. It didn't really matter. He knew she knew. There was no point in remaining quiet, but that didn't help him speak.

So, he chose to remove the focus from himself. "You're in love with me, too."

Very plainly, Maria said, "Yes, I am."

Those three little words, a single syllable each, just didn't seem to want to penetrate his brain. There was no way to misinterpret them, and yet, he didn't believe them. For whatever reason, no matter how briefly, Eric decided that it was a lie.

"Do you?" He asked a little sterner than he meant to.

"You've been in my head." She said. "Do you really have to ask?"

Eric felt himself pause. No, he didn't. He'd seen, more than once, how she felt about him. And yet, physically hearing it was a different story entirely.

They were being strangely clinical given the subject matter, but Eric could see them acting any other way. They weren't in a romantic movie. What were they supposed to do, run into each other's arms and kiss in the rain?

"And what about your little friend Pasha?" Eric asked with a level of derision that didn't go unnoticed.

Maria gave him a warning glance, but answered him regardless.

"What about him?"

"Am I going to have to worry about a monolithic bear killing me in my sleep because your affection lies elsewhere?"

"We have an understanding." She replied.

And that was as in depth as she apparently planned to be. Part of Eric wanted to push the subject further, but a larger part couldn't care less about the soldier.

"What do we do now?" Maria asked plainly.

Eric stood before her, hands in his pockets and his face blank as it was most days. A small voice in his mind spoke, though, despite his stoic exterior. It wouldn't shut up, in fact. It told him what he should do, what _they_ should do, but he refused to speak the words. Strangely, Eric felt like he was listening to a whole other person, as though that voice had nothing to do with him and was instead someone else entirely.

It chastised him for acting like a child. It told him to get over himself and act. It told him that, for the first time in a long while, he could be happy. It angrily told him to be a man.

Eric didn't like the voice in the back of his head. He hated it, in fact, because he didn't think it knew what it was talking about even though he knew otherwise. Clearly, the voice only existed for a reason.

But as his mind began to race, bouncing back and forth between the two points, and as his head began to ache, Eric finally conceded. Perhaps, for once in a very long time, Eric should simply be honest.

"Come home." He finally said.

Her head tilted marginally to the side, an action that probably would have been invisible to anyone else.

"I am home, Eric." She replied. "I can't just leave, not now, not while I'm still struggling to rebuild my country."

He understood completely, but that didn't mean he liked the answer. In truth, Eric didn't expect her to accept his request that easily. She wasn't that sort of person.

"Stay here." She said.

Eric's face relaxed in the way it would before a smile would form, but he didn't allow it to go that far.

"I can't." He told her. "But you already know that, don't you?"

Maria did smile softly. Of course she knew. He could no sooner leave behind everything he knew, Fangtasia, his other businesses, Pam –everything- to stay with her in Russia than she could leave Russia. Nor could he-

"Of course I know." Maria said. "You can't be anyone's second."

Nor could he be subservient to anyone else.

He smiled that time. She knew him fairly well, even now, it seemed. And it was true. If Eric moved to Russia to be with her, he would be beneath her, be the one in their relationship that would be the less important. It wouldn't be Maria's fault. It wasn't as though she lorded herself over him (much) but being who and what she was, she would, naturally, be more important to those on the outside. His ego could only withstand it for so long, regardless of the relationship they would have together.

It was a shortcoming he knew he possessed, but knowing that rarely helped him control it.

In the long-run, he doubted very highly that things would remain pleasant and without resentment. Then again, what did he know?

So where did that leave them now? Eric had heard that compromise was something important in any relationship, but at what point did compromise become giving up who you are in order to be with someone else? At what point would it be throwing away your life for another person? Eric couldn't speak for her, but he had the feeling that was exactly how the pair of them would view whatever relationship they'd form together.

Perhaps they simply waited too long to try.

"Where does that leave us now?"

Eric took a breath and let it out slowly before he said, "I don't know."

Maria nodded. He watched as her head dipped. For a moment or two, it looked like she was thinking until, finally, she met his gaze again. Without a word, she approached him. Eric didn't bother moving.

There was no hesitation on her part. As though nothing had changed and the years hadn't passed between them, Maria reached up, cradled the back of Eric's head, and brought him down to her. She kissed him the moment he was near enough.

Her lips burned against his and the heat of them was enough to breathe life into the cold vampire. Eric gladly reciprocated the affection, even deepening it while he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. It was sweet, but passionate, and held an underlining desperation that he knew wasn't his alone.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and held her close. Maria let out a soft moan when he had, a sound that caused his skin to prickle. He tore his lips from hers and placed kisses along her jaw and her neck. Her pulse thundered.

As his desire continued to climb, Eric lifted Maria into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held tightly. Maria looked down at him with eyes darkened by lust. It was an expression he hadn't seen in years, an expression he'd only dreamt of in their time apart.

With his intense speed, Eric raced easily through the palace and into one of the many bedchambers so they could be alone. His eyes remained locked to hers as he took her to the bed and gently laid her on the plush surface.

Eric's hands explored her body while he kissed whatever exposed skin he could. He expected that, at any moment, he would wake up and everything would be revealed as a dream. The thought frightened him more than he was willing to admit aloud.

He eventually claimed her lips again while a hand slipped between them. Maria clung to him, ran her fingers through his hair, and returned his passions happily.

Through the kisses, he said, "I've missed you."

Maria let out a soft, longing sigh and replied, "I've missed you, too."

The hand between them worked quickly to undo clothing. His belt and trousers gave way easily and when they had, he pulled himself free. A sharp yank soon removed Maria's panties and within seconds, he thrust himself inside her.

Maria broke their kiss as she let out a whimpered, broken sort of gasp. Eric had to fight a groan of his own. Years had passed since he'd had sex with Maria and that left him unprepared –unprepared for the fiery heat of her thrope body to the way her core held him. Fortunately, Maria seemed equally unprepared for him. Her entire body clenched around his, her thighs and arms holding him so hard that a lesser man would break beneath the strength of it.

Her gasps and soft, trembling breaths were all he heard.

"Eric," She whispered softly, "Don't stop."

Somehow, that seemed to be all the prompting he needed to continue. No matter how badly his mind wished for a moment to steady, his body refused to allow it. Apparently, it craved her too much.

Whether he was prepared for it or not, Eric began to move. He was slow at first, but only at first. Eventually, Eric managed to gain even the slightest speed. Maria continued to cling to him and through his shirt he could feel the sharp jab of her fingernails. He didn't mind, however. It actually helped him.

Unfortunately, within minutes of beginning, Eric felt the end fast approaching. He wasn't proud of it, or truly surprised. It was simply further proof that Maria was unlike the humans he'd been with in the past years.

"Bite me,"

Her random words caused him to hesitate briefly.

"What?" He breathed.

Maria nipped at his lips and kissed him deeply before she repeated, "Bite me."

Only too happy to oblige, Eric began to thrust into her harder than before and, as his orgasm was close at hand, he bit into Maria's throat. Her blood exploded into his mouth, flooding it with liquid fire the moment he came. Maria cried out happily, passionately, at the feeling, and he tasted every hint of it.

His body shook, his shoulders trembled, and he felt as though he could drift to sleep while he slowly regained control over himself. When his orgasm finally began to ebb, Eric focused only on drinking from Maria. The action was downright loving, from how tenderly he fed, to how affectionately Maria cradled the back of his head to her.

Eventually, and it was harder than he would care to say, Eric managed to tear himself away from her. He bit the tip of his tongue and swept it over the wounds, healing them instantly. As he drew back, he saw the lustful way she stared up at him, and completely disregarding the fact that her blood was smeared across his lips and chin, Maria kissed him once more.

What followed was hours of them reacquainting themselves over and over until Eric had to go to ground for the day.

* * *

_Two Months Later_

Eric sat on his throne watching the regulars sway and dance and do whatever they could to forget their simple, mundane little lives. He was bored, but what else was he supposed to be? Maria was on the other side of the world.

Renovations for the New Blood factory in Moscow were well underway. Within the next month or two, they'd be finished and production would begin. If it went as well as he assumed it would, Eric and Pam already had plans to open another in St. Petersburg, too. That would put their factory count up to five, which would be more than enough for him.

Eric missed Maria, but knew it was normal. While sometimes, he was annoyed, if not downright angry, that she didn't uproot her life to return with him to Shreveport, he was able to beat those emotions into submission. Long distance was better for them. Although, to be honest, Eric had no idea how to accommodate something long distance. He'd never bothered before. Was boredom a normal side effect?

As he sat there fanaticizing about what would happen the next time he traveled to Russia, Eric noticed a new dancer climb onto the platform in front of him. He paid her passing attention at first. It wasn't until a certain song began to play that his gaze drifted back to her.

The young woman in question was dressed in black latex. The fabric was painted on, clinging to every inch of her body it touched. The jumpsuit was a single piece, with sleeves that reached her wrists and shorts so short they did nothing to cover her ass. But the bit he liked the most was the wide open slit down the front. It dove to her bellybutton and left a decent portion of cleavage bare for the room to see.

Dark hair tumbled around her face, a face that was shielded by a thick piece of lace that acted like a mask. But it did nothing to hide her, at least not from him. He would recognize those brilliant green eyes anywhere.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his lips when Eric realized that Maria was the woman in the painted-on latex. That little fact made it all the more enjoyable to watch her sway, roll her hips, and grind against the pole.

When she'd first danced for him, all those years ago, Eric swore he'd never make her do it again because the life fled her eyes. It was disappointing given the skill she showed at dancing. Now, however, that life was there right alongside the talent.

Dancing to the same song she had the first time, Maria's eyes remained focused solely on Eric. His heart wanted to beat through his chest while blood pulsed through his body. The whole of Fangtasia disappeared to him in those few moments. There was nothing but Maria.

His eyes raked over her, devouring any and every detail from the way her lips parted with each breath, to how she teasingly tugged on the edge of the slit, giving further glimpses of her chest without ever actually revealing anything else.

The song continued to play for a moment longer, but the second it ended, Eric was on his feet. Despite the audience, he approached Maria, threw her over his shoulder, and charged into the back office. The door barely closed behind him before he set her down on his desk.

Giggling, she looked up at him through her lacey mask. Eric didn't mind because he didn't bother dwelling on it. Instead, he pulled her into a kiss. Maria met him greedily.

They tore at one another's clothing, shredding it as they attempted to get what they wanted. Eric didn't even care that his two-thousand-dollar suit was reduced to rags within seconds. He even helped her get it off his body.

"I've missed you." Maria whispered against his lips.

"Good," He replied.

Holding her hips firmly in his hands, Eric thrust into her. Maria either couldn't, or simply didn't bother attempting to be silent. Instead, she cried out loudly. The sound of it sent chills down Eric's spine. Maria cradled the back of his head with one hand while the other was clamped firmly around the lip of his desk for stability. But Eric, so desperate to have her again, slammed into Maria so hard that the desk did nothing to keep her in place. In fact, it shifted and moved beneath her.

"Harder," She breathed.

Eric was only too happy to oblige. Still holding onto her, Eric lifted Maria from the desk and sped across the room. He slammed her back into the drywall hard enough it broke and cracked beneath her. Maria dug her fingernails into her back while he proceeded to drive into her harder than he had before.

Time meant nothing. They could have been in the office for seconds or hours. The only thing that mattered was the whimpering, gasping breaths coming from the woman in his arms.

When he knew she was close, Eric bit into her shoulder which was more than enough to send her over the edge. Maria cried out, dragging her talon-like fingernails down his back when she did. The smell of his own blood met his nose, but he didn't care. While he fed from her, filled himself with her delicious flavor, Eric followed Maria into oblivion.

Eventually, he retracted his teeth and let his forehead rest against the side of her head. Maria had gone limp in his arms, trembling slightly because of the exertion, but little else.

"How long are you in America?" he somehow managed to ask.

"Two weeks." She answered breathily.

Eric grinned wickedly to himself. Then that would be how long Pam would have to take over things with their businesses because Eric had no intentions of leaving Maria's side while she was in town.

* * *

_Five Months Later:_

The press snapped more pictures than any news outlet could ever use while a dozen television cameras were focused solely on the stage. A large, ceremonial red ribbon was spread across the front of it, tied to two golden poles to keep it taught. Maria stood in the center wearing an appropriate dress and even a hat with a bit of lace covering her face. On either side of her stood the unbelievable Viking God Eric Northman, and his equally statuesque Progeny Pamela de Beaufort.

"_It is my great honor to present to you the first of two New Blood factories that will call this beautiful country home."_ Maria said to the crowd.

A man stepped forward with a pillow that held three gilded pairs of scissors. Pam, Eric and Maria each took one then opened them against the ribbon. They smiled to the cameras and then, in unison, snipped the bright red ribbon. The fabric fell away gently and those gathered applauded.

They remained outside for the press a little while longer, ensuring pictures and the like were taken, before everyone retired into the factory. The main belly of it, the assembly line, had been outfitted to support a party that was for the press, the owners, the founders, and a fair handful of the workers who would start the following day.

Vampires and humans alike walked the space, some with champagne, others with flutes of New Blood. The air was relatively pleasant, but Maria wanted to leave. She couldn't, of course. Being the Empress, she was expected o remain for a good amount of time because opening the factory was her idea to help bring stability to the country, and, also being the Empress, people would notice her leaving.

As Maria stood with Alexi and Andrei on either side of her (Pasha had requested some personal time to deal with a family matter) she sipped timidly on her champagne. Her eyes traveled the distance and soon landed on Eric. He was speaking with some people who were interviewing him about his company. Maria wanted to take him away from the party. The two of them could have more fun alone than surrounded by people.

"Eric know you're eye-fuckin' him from across the room?" Pam asked in a smooth voice.

The vampire in question soon looked up. Despite the distance, he'd clearly heard his Progeny and grinned as he stared back at Maria.

"He does now." Maria replied. She tore her gaze from him and turned her attention to Pam. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Hm," Pam fought the scowl, but Maria could see a bit of one regardless. "Not my kinda party." She looked back at Maria and a sly, very Pam-like smile curled her lips. "Hopin' the two of you can slip away, hm?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Maria replied unconvincingly.

"Oh, please," Pam scoffed. "Every time the two of you are within twenty miles of each other, it's just a matter of time before you start fuckin' like rabbits."

Maria didn't reply, but grinned to herself as she glanced back at the Viking in the distance. Pam wasn't wrong. Whenever she and Eric were near enough to one another, there was hardly a time they weren't entwined in some way. What else did she expect? It wasn't as though they saw each other very often. They had to make up for lost time.

Twenty, perhaps thirty minutes later, while Maria was staring out at the scene before her, she felt the air shift behind her. She knew without bothering to look that the coolness emanated from Eric. He said nothing, but she felt his hand on the small of her back. It was a sweet gesture, one that made her heart beat a little faster than normal.

They didn't speak. They didn't do anything, but stand there with his hand resting on her back. People approached to speak with her, and sometimes even him, but still they remained as they were. To those on the outside, they might have looked like a couple. Maria was well aware that in the morning, there would probably be at least one tabloid saying as much.

When the night finally ended, or at least her commitment to it did, Maria was glad to leave. Pam had found a young lady from a news organization that she liked the look of, so the blonde chose to remain, but Eric left with Maria.

Andrei and Alexi stood on either side of them as Maria was led to her limousine. Eric held open the door, she slid inside, and he followed. Shortly after, the driver set off to the palace.

Maria yawned. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to take a long bath. Eric had apparently seen the action and, since there was no audience, acted. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side. Maria slumped against his chest, even going so far as to bring her legs onto the expansive backseat with her. Eric tenderly stroked the side of her head and Maria let her eyes drift shut.

Yes, the two of them were surrounded by an undeniable drive and lust, but there were moments where they were almost loving to one another. In the back of that limousine was one of those moments.

Maria's eyes drifted shut as she relaxed further into his chest. He would be in town for another week before returning to Shreveport, so she planned to enjoy the time they had. As she began to fall asleep, Maria felt his cold lips on the top of her head.

* * *

_Nearly Two Years Later:_

Jason strolled into Bellefleur's with his stomach growling. Arlene spotted him and instantly smiled wide.

"Jason, hey!"

"Hey, Arlene." He took a seat at the bar. "Who's on the stove today?"

"Big John," she said as she grabbed a beer for the young Stackhouse. "Why?"

"Just wonderin'."

"Well, what can I get ya, hm?"

"Burger and fries." He replied. "I just need to grab some lunch before headin' back to work."

"You got it, darlin'."

Arlene scampered away to give his order to Big John, leaving Jason behind to enjoy his beer. Since it was practically dead for the time being, Jason couldn't help but glance up at the TV. He wasn't too surprised to see it on one of those talk-show-like things that talked about celebrities and other gossip he didn't care about.

Jason rolled his eyes, more than willing to drift into the emptiness of his mind, until he heard something familiar.

"And in vampire news," A woman said. Jason's gaze lazily drifted up to the screen. A really pretty blonde lady smiled happily. "Billionaire business owner and New Blood creator Eric Northman doesn't seem to be on the market anymore."

A picture of the vampire popped up, taken somewhere Jason didn't recognize, and he wasn't alone. A young woman with dark hair was standing beside him. The two were walking somewhere with their arms around one another's backs. Eric was hard to miss, even Jason recognized him, but he couldn't tell who the girl was.

"The Viking vampire has been spotted a number of times with a dark-haired young woman who's finally been identified as Maria Romanov," The picture changed to one of the pair facing the long-distance cameraman and sure enough, Jason recognized her now. "For those of you who don't know, Miss Romanov is the current ruler of Russia." Jason's brows rose. "A few years ago, she was crowned the Empress of Russia." The picture again changed, this time to Maria's coronation photo.

"The fuck," Jason mumbled to himself.

"A source close to the couple has told E! News that the pair has been an item for more than two years, but have apparently known one another for some time." The picture soon turned into another of the pair holding hands while they walked outside of, what looked like, a palace. "Who knows? Maybe someday Mr. Northman will add Emperor to his list of titles."

With a wide smile, the blonde soon went on to some other story, but Jason wasn't so quick to dismiss what he'd just seen.

The girl he'd seen bleeding to death in the back of that SUV in Dallas, the one who said Sookie enslaved her was an Empress? And she was dating Northman?

"What the fuck, man?" Jason said to himself before downing the rest of his beer.


	43. Chapter 43

**AN:** Just a, uh.., short li'l somethin' somethin'. Lol. Maybe I'll do some one-shots, or something? I don't know. Let me know what you guys think, or if you'd be interested. But, as of now, this is the last chapter. So, if you haven't yet, and you'd like to know when I update again (maybe with a one-shot or two) go ahead and follow. You guys are absolutely awesome. I love hearing that people enjoyed this whole story because I loved writing it. So, again, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Epilogue**

It had been fifteen years since Maria was crowned the ruler of her homeland, and things had changed drastically.

Russia was once a poor, desolate country. Crime was high, in fact one of the highest in the world. It was disturbingly common for tourists to be kidnapped from hostels, hotels, bars, and even train stations or airports. Terrible things would happen to them from being trafficked, to simply killed. Drugs and violence were on the rise. Unemployment had hit a staggering level. The country was a communistic wonderland where only the corrupt were rewarded for their efforts and people were afraid.

That was no longer the case.

While the criminal system hadn't been kind to those who were caught, miles and miles of red tape ensured that loopholes-galore would complicate matters. Perhaps it might have been unethical for the government to employ vampires to glamor the truth out of the police (in regards to their own corruption) and then instill the unflappable desire to uphold the law, but what is it they say about making an omlet?

With infrastructure brought to the country, crime was down, employment was up, and Russia was almost completely self-reliant. Natural energy ensured they didn't have to pay fees to import oil, nor risk unsafe working conditions to mine their own.

Decrepit and unlivable buildings that had been set up for low-income housing had been revamped or flat-out demolished where it couldn't be saved. People seemed happier, lived better, and that was all she wanted.

But, what genuinely made Maria the happiest was Moscow's traffic. Known and the second worst city in the world (literally) when it came to traffic, Maria spent years –actual years!- trying to work out the insanity of the country's capital. And while the issue would never be completely resolved given how many residents called Moscow home, the fact that it now took less than two hours to get to work rather than the four-six it took before made Maria incredibly happy. It was arguably one of the smallest things she'd done in her tenure, and yet she was most proud of it because, in her long life, she'd been stuck in her fair share of traffic.

Russia was prospering. It would still be a long road, but the fact that her country was now spoken about in the same sentences as the United States and parts of Europe (positively) was monumental. Needless to say, sleeping at night had become much easier.

Maria was nestled deep within the belly of a claw-foot tub, surrounded by the warmth of her rosewater bath. Just beyond the foot of the tub, she could see through a wall of windows, out into the night. Flurries of snow fluttered lazily past and clung to the furniture and decoration on the balcony just beyond the windows. The door to said balcony was open. It let it the freshest, coldest breeze and while Maria knew she should have closed it, she didn't want to. Something about the icy air, but the smoldering water was the perfect combination to her.

As she laid there, her head rolling listlessly to the side of the bathtub's curved body, a tall figure emerged on the balcony. He'd descended from the heavens and landed without a sound. At the sight of him, Maria's heart beat just a little bit faster.

Eric brushed the flurries from his shoulders as he entered the bathroom suite, and even combed his hair back into place with his fingers. As he approached, his cold, grey eyes landed on her and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Oh dear," Maria said smoothly. "It appears I have an intruder."

His smile broadened and he arched a brow. "Are you going to call the guard?"

"Maybe," She grinned a bit. With only a few steps, Eric's long legs carried him to the foot of her tub. "Where've you been, hm? Eating the villagers? Terrorizing the locals?"

He chuckled and began to remove his jacket. "I was in Hong Kong."

"Oh," She sang the word softly. "I didn't think you could fly that far."

"I can't," He replied as he stepped around to her blindside. Through the large mirror to her right, Maria could see him removing his clothes to join her. "Well," He quickly went about correcting himself. "I won't."

"Business or pleasure?" She asked as she got comfortable once more.

"Both," He said casually.

"Well, good. I hope it was profitable."

She heard him chuckle again and shortly after that the sound of his shoes clomping against the tiled floor. Not long after that, he returned to her line of sight, completely naked and glistening like marble.

"Sit up."

Maria did as he said, pushing herself away from the sloping back of the bathtub. Eric climbed in her behind her fluidly, so much so that he barely shifted the water, and when he'd settled, he drew her back to his chest. His body was almost bitterly cold and it sent a wave of goose-bumps across her skin, which soon vanished.

The pair got comfortable within the porcelain. It was a testament to the size of the tub, that a man of Eric Northman's proportions fit, but she already knew he would. Maria always liked bathtubs that she could nearly swim in.

With a gentle sigh, Maria sank even further against him, almost melting into the vampire's chest. She was completely comfortable, completely at ease, and was close to drifting to sleep as a result. As she did, she felt Eric run his fingertips along her left arm, beneath her hand, around her fingers, and then back again. It was almost as though he was examining her limbs. She didn't mind. She liked the way it felt.

"Would you like to see what I got while I was there?" He whispered into her ear.

"Sure," she muttered in response.

But neither of them moved beyond what they already had. Maria assumed he would show her when they got out of the bath (whenever that would be) but then felt something odd. A heavy weight was added to her finger.

Her brows pulled together and when she opened her eyes, she saw the reason. Eric was holding her fingers up with the tips of his own, but there, on her left ring finger, was a monolithic addition. A massive, glittering pink gem that could bludgeon a person quite easily, now rested on the digit.

Maria's eyes shot wide and her heart felt like it sputtered. She couldn't tell if it wanted to stop beating entirely, or race to the point of exploding. All she could focus on was the massive rock.

"It's called the _Pink Star._" He told her in the same calm, level voice he always used. "It's the largest Vivid Pink diamond in the world, almost sixty carats. It's the most expensive ring in the world, too."

She continued to star at it and blink like a stunned cartoon character. That was how she felt. How else was she supposed to react to something like this?

And yet, somehow, she managed to utter a single word, "Why?"

"I couldn't really go to a store in the mall, could I?" He teased lightly.

"But," her brain still had trouble. "You've never bought me jewelry before. Why now?"

There was a brief pause before he replied, "I thought it was obvious."

Maybe it was, she didn't know. Again, Maria wasn't quite capable of thinking straight. And then, for some reason, it donned on her.

Maria suddenly spun around the face the man behind her. Eric did nothing more than arch a brow and let his arms rest casually along the lip of the bathtub. Maria's face twisted with confusion.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" Her voice was level and borderline deadpan, but she couldn't help it.

His head tilted marginally to the side. "Yes," he said plainly.

"I'm not immortal."

"I don't care."

"I'm going to want children."

He shrugged a broad shoulder. "Fine."

Her eyes narrowed and her brows pooled in the center of her forehead. "But, why?"

It was his turn to eye her curiously. "I thought women were generally happy when someone proposes to them?"

"Of course, but I don't understand why you'd want to marry me."

He spoke to her slowly, as thought she'd been brain damaged. "Because I want to."

And then, somehow, the haze began to fade and the truth of the situation was allowed to sink in. Maria's face relaxed and while she still had trouble completely understanding everything, parts became clear.

"Oh," she managed to mutter.

Eric's head tilted in the other direction as he eyed her sharply. "Is that a yes?"

Maria blinked a few times. While her brain seemed to have nothing but trouble comprehending the simplest question, it already seemed to know the answer.

"Yes," She nodded

Eric's expression relaxed and his shoulders slumped as though he'd been holding tension in them. It was only then, when he calmed, that she could do the same. Somehow, a small smile curled at the corner of her lips.

"Holy shit," she mumbled. "I'm going to marry Eric Northman."

He smiled wide and chuckled.

* * *

_Six Weeks Later:_

Jason was sore when he got home that evening. So many years of back-breaking work all but ensured he'd be crippled by fifty. Since he only had a couple of years to go until he reached that point, he believed it.

When he walked through the door of Grams and Sookie's old house, he heard the TV on in the other room. Brigitte was sitting on the couch with one of his girls.

"Hey, ladies." He smiled at the sight of them.

"Hey, daddy." His daughter barely looked away from the television as he approached his wife and kissed her.

"Whatchya watchin'?" with a heavy groan, he dropped onto the couch beside Brigitte.

"E!" his daughter replied. Jason groaned, He hated those shows.

"Why? So y'know which singer's bangin' which rapper?" He asked sarcastically.

His daughter ignored him, which he expected. She was almost sixteen now. He had no power.

"I'ma grab a beer." He mumbled to Brigitte.

She smiled as he heaved himself up and went into the kitchen. After retrieving a beer from the fridge, popping the top and tossing it into the sink, he returned and regained his seat. Not a second later, he was presented with something that turned his stomach even more.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is official." A pretty brunette said happily into the camera. "Mr. Northman is off the dating scene!"

"That's right, Meghan." A tall, ridiculously handsome man beside her said. The camera focused on him and to the side a photo appeared that made Jason's blood run cold. "Just last week, Mr. Northman, owner, founder and co-creator of New Blood, revealed that he popped the question to long-time girlfriend and Russian monarch, Empress Maria Romanov."

The picture showed the pair standing at some kind of event, dressed splendidly in something worth more money than Jason had made that year –and that was probably just Northman's tie. A sparkling pink rock on Maria's hand, which was pressed against Northman's chest for the photo, was quickly zoomed in on, though Jason didn't know why they bothered. You could probably see it from space.

"Mr. Northman reportedly proposed with the famed _Pink Star_ diamond." The handsome man said. "For those of you who don't know, the sixty-carat _Pink Star_ sold for an incredible seventy-one million dollars twenty years ago." Jason's stomach dropped. "And sources say Mr. Northman shelled out an amazing eighty-four million just last month. I don't know about you, but I'd say that's one lucky lady."

"Sure is," Meghan smiled so wide that her perfectly bleached teeth were almost blinding. "The couple hasn't set an official date as of yet, but I think it's safe to say, it'll be one amazing event."

"Christ Almighty." Jason grumbled resentfully. The sour tone drew the attention of his family.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Brigitte asked sweetly.

"Nothin', it's just… I know them two."

His daughter's attention sharpened at that. "Really?" She asked excitedly.

"Yup," he replied. "Never met a bigger asshole than Eric Northman."

"You think you'll get invited to the weddin'?" She asked so eagerly that it shocked him.

"Hell no," He snapped a bit harshly. "Besides, we wouldn't go anyway."

His daughter wilted and reluctantly turned her attention back to the TV, but Jason couldn't bother watching it. He was fuming, but what the hell could he do? Nothing, that's what.

* * *

_Six Months Later:_

Nations of the world gathered. Important people from every country, from every walk of life, lined aisle after aisle. Television cameras, reporters, and photographers were scattered throughout. It was clear that many had waited for such an extravagant ceremony.

The wedding progressed very similarly to the English royals, meaning it was long and elaborate.

In a beautiful, but simple gown of satin and lace, Maria soon proceeded down the aisle with her veil and dress trailing behind her. Clasped tenderly within her hands was a bouquet of beautiful lilies.

At the end of the carpeted path stood a Viking wrapped in fine black fabric. Every stitch was intentional, every drape of the fabric complimentary. His hair was perfectly coiffed, his jaw entirely hairless. He stood so still that he might as well have been a statue, and his eyes were locked completely to her.

Standing just behind him as part of his part was a fabulous blonde. While Pam should have, simply in a gender specific role, stood on her side. The fact of the matter was, Maria would never ask her to do so. They might have been friends, but Pam was so much more to Eric. She was, without a doubt, his "best man".

Pam was beautiful, even more so with her androgynous clothing. Her black blazer was sculpted to her narrow frame. The single button held it closed and because she wore no shirt beneath, a seductive, but not indecent amount of skin showed. Maria rather liked the faux, white, crisp collar that Pam wore so she could wear a tie that matched the other groomsmen.

Her slacks were again cut perfectly to her legs, and just tight enough to remind you Pam was a woman. The cuff ended above her ankle, which ensured the world got to see her designer heels.

Women wished they looked as good as Pam in men's clothing.

By the time she made it to the altar where a man with a fancy hat and robes stood, a thick bible opened to appropriate verses, Maria felt as though her heart would burst through her chest. The sound of her blood pulsing through her body echoed so loudly in her ears that she might as well be at the beach surrounded by crashing waves.

She soon stood at the altar and felt Eric take her hand. Maria could barely comprehend what was happening around her. It seemed so surreal. As a result, the ceremony progressed with very little of her attention aimed at it. The fact was, she could only focus on Eric.

She spoke the words she was meant to speak, and he did the same. He slid a ring of simple coiled metal onto her finger, and she slid a thicker version of it onto his. They spoke a few more words, and she kissed him.

And just like that, she was officially, and legally bound to a man that had always been intwined in her life in one way or another.

Maria smiled wide and saw one of equal size on his.

* * *

_A Few Weeks Later:_

Maria sat in a high-backed chair as straight as possible. Her knees were together, off to the side, her gloved-hands resting softly on her lap, and her mother's tiara nestled in her ebony locks.

Just beside, and yet slightly behind, stood Eric. He was dressed just as impressively and while it wasn't entirely normal for the husband to wear a head adornment of any sort, Eric proudly brandished his father's crown.

His hand rested lovingly on her shoulder as per the artist's request. They sat completely still while the air filled with the sound of the artist's brush against canvas. It might have been an archaic method in a digital world, but she rather enjoyed paint on canvas as opposed to the alternative.

The portrait would last forever, left to hang on the walls of any palace, or perhaps even a museum or two, long after her death.

Maria still couldn't believe this was how her life had progressed. It hadn't as of yet, and probably never would, sink in completely. But she was happy, so much happier than she thought she could be. Not only had she resurrected her family's legacy, but her country was prospering, and she had married who was, perhaps, the only man that she could tolerate. Eric could stand with her physically and intellectually. She doubted she'd ever get bored, and there was no denying the passion that pulsed between them.

Her hand slowly reached out and tenderly grasped his. Almost the instantly she felt the coolness of his skin, Maria felt fires roil within her. She glanced up at him through her lashes and noticed Eric looking down at her discreetly. A small, wicked smile curled the corner of his lips and in it, she knew he felt the same.


End file.
